The Angel on my shoulder isn't fond of Wolves
by OpheliaArkham
Summary: Stiles pack starts getting a little worried when he starts acting strangely. He misses a few days of school, clearly dodges their questions and what really has them baffled is Stiles doesn't have a scent anymore. When they start poking around they may find their friend has bit off more then he can chew.
1. Just a vessel

Scraping a few matted leaves from behind where his head rested on the damp forest floor, honey brown eyes shifted around taking in the few trees around him. The sounds of the forest surrounded him as a lengthy sigh pressed from his lips, shifting his body lazily and testing the stiffness in his limbs. At least he wasn't naked this time. The air had a slight chill to it, alerting him to his ripped shirt which he shrugged off without much thought. Propping himself up on his arms and letting his head drop back so he could stare at the mid-day sky with a yawn he finally focused on the more pressing matter at hand.

"It might be nice if next time you didn't leave me stranded in what I can only assume is the middle of the woods." Huffing at the lack of reply he finally stood, brushing himself off and muttering a word of thanks at finding his jacket intact a few yards away. "I swear I'll stop harboring your ass if you don't knock this shit off."

_You couldn't if you wanted too._

"Yeah well that doesn't mean I wouldn't at least seriously contemplate it. You know it's a weekday? I have obligations Gabriel, such as school." Stiles griping continued as he tried to find his way toward where his jeep would hopefully be waiting, "Not that Angels know anything about how important not disappearing for days during the school week really is, you're going to get me locked up, or worse grounded."

_Would you like me to expedite the process of getting back to town? I know how you love the fast travel option._

"Oh no." Shaking his head dutifully, Stiles continued picking his way through what he hoped was his trail from last night, "I don't need any of your Angel mumbo jumbo right now. General directions and a rough estimate of how far away from town I am will be just fine."

_General directions? I would say you're at the corner of butt and fucked, somewhere near downtown nothing. In fact, you're so close to nothing, I think your tiny little meat sack can reach town by…oh, let's say dusk._

"Wha-I-Are you...fuck me. All right Feathers, do your thing. I have a chem test today and Scott is already asking questions." He grumbled.

It was the strangest feeling Stiles had ever experienced, feeling some god like being taking over your body, slipping you into some sort of back seat conscience. Not to say it wasn't something he hadn't experienced enough times by now, but it didn't make it any easier of a transition. His eyes closed and he was thankful for the darkness that enveloped his mind, he had learned pretty much up front that Angels didn't strictly 'teleport' per say so much as they move faster than the human mind can comprehend.

When Stiles eyes opened he was standing in a small enclave at the school. Dropping to his knees and clutching his stomach he groaned, "Thanks for the ride, Feathers. If we could avoid reasons to do this more often your lowly vessel would really appreciate it." Silence was his answer as he stood, taking a few shaky steps toward the school and reaching into his pocket. Stiles sighed when he found his cell phone missing as he made his way inside Beacon Hills High School, eying the hallways carefully to make sure his entrance wasn't noticed.

"Thanks for making sure I had my phone, by the way." He grumbled lowly, making sure not to attract attention from the few stragglers not in class, "Not like I probably don't have a hundred missed texts and calls from Scott and my dad. Oh and probably a search party to top it off! Because my life isn't enough of a circus."

_Oh yes, because you're mister popular._

"Don't be cute."

_I think I'm adorable._

"Stiles!"

Stiles took in a deep breath, steadying himself and putting on his best bullshitter grin. "Scott! Buddy, how ya doing?" Stiles did a quick about face, pulling Scott along with him in one smooth motion and setting himself into one of his defensive rambles, "Dude you should have SEEN this Call of Duty match I was locked in, seriously gamers will write poetry about this death match."

Scott shrugged his shoulders dropping Stiles arm and locking his frown on his face, "Dude do you know how worried everyone was? You dad has been driving all around town trying to find you, I couldn't track you down. Man I even had Derek join in the hunt, we thought you were hurt!"

Cringing as he rubbed his stomach in reminder to the poor treatment his body had been given recently he continued to play off his lack of communication, "Sorry I scared you man, I'll pay more attention to my phone from now on." Looking anywhere but Scotts unconvinced features caused him to realize this hallway was unfortunately free of clocks, "Hey what time is it anyway? Did I miss lunch?"

_Oh, you missed lunch all right._

Scotts face confirmed Gabriels words, not that the look fixed on his friends face wasn't the last thing Stiles needed to see. He had years of reading Scotts expressions, the kid was a puppy, he really only had a few. This current one was all about wondering if seeking some form of supernatural help for his wayward friend was a course of action he needed to take. Well no thank YOU, Stiles had had enough supernatural 'help' to last him a life time.

"I can see by your expression I have not only missed lunch, I've probably missed the entire school day as well. That's phenomenal." He turned, making his way toward the exit. Stiles had two priorities right now, one was curly fries, one was getting away from Scott. No matter how much he wished he could confide in Scott about his recent Angel infestation it just wasn't in the cards.

"Stiles where are you going? We need to talk about this!" Scott pleaded behind him, desperate to figure out what kind of trouble Stiles had landed himself in.

_Gabriel, I need you to get me out of here as soon as I'm out of view._

_Where are we off to captain?_

_Just get me into my room._

_Stiles, I didn't know you liked me like that._

_Just do it Gabriel, you owe me this._

He could hear Scott's footsteps behind him, he had never gone behind Scotts back with something big like this and the effects were starting to take their toll on him. He rounded the corner and felt himself slipping as Gabriel took over, dragging him away from himself before shoving him back into place. He felt like an overstuffed doll that an indecisive doll maker couldn't decide who he wanted to create so he just shoved two separate beings into one.

The bathroom was blessedly close by, and as soon as Stiles was done emptying the contents of his stomach and was staring himself in the face via mirror he decided it was time to face down this Angel he was hosting.

"Gabriel, we need to have a little chat."

* * *

"Scott, give me three good reasons why I should be the one to talk to him about whatever is going on? Stiles is your best friend." Derek stood unyielding against his home, sawdust handprints littering his jeans as the sound of the betas working in the background drowned out what would have been an awkward silence. "And please, give me something better to work with other than 'You're his Alpha.'"

Scott swiped a strand of what was starting to be his too shaggy hair out of his eyes, "You _are_ his Alpha, and he won't talk to me!" he insisted, frustration written all over his face. "Come on Derek, he disappears for 24 hours, we can't track a scent trail because there isn't one to follow, and then he disappears from school almost in front of my eyes? Even you know something is up with this, and whatever it is it probably spells trouble for the pack."

He didn't really have to consider Scotts words for very long, he had known something was wrong about Stiles disappearance as soon as they realized they had no scent to follow. Even if someone had picked Stiles up and carried him there would have been something, but instead they were left with a stone cold trail and nothing more to go on then some odd behavior and Scott's gut feeling. He didn't like it one bit, there were nastier things out in the world then Werewolves and the last thing he wanted was one of their own tangled up in some mess.

"Derek please, it's Stiles!"

Humming out a sigh as he pushed himself away from the side of the house Derek reached out and clasped a tight hand to Scotts shoulder, "I'll talk to Deaton, see if he can think of anything so we don't go into this blind." He released Scotts shoulder, turning toward the house and gesturing for the beta to follow, "I'm not promising results, but maybe we can be on more level ground when we talk to Stiles. Now go find a hammer and help Isaac with that wall."

* * *

"What do you mean you don't know how long we're going to be doing this? Do you realize you're practically destroying my golden years of school?"

_I'm sorry, I was under the impression you were being attacked by supernatural creatures on a Tuesday evening when I found your originally._

"Supernatural activities or not! You know what, no, the supernatural shit makes this worse! I can't just claim some drug problem, they're werewolves, and they would take one whiff of me and know I was lying. Again, scratch that! Know why Gabriel? They can hear my heartbeat!" Stiles threw his hands in the air from where he had been pacing back and forth, frustration seeping from every pore.

_I should just brain drain them. _

"I don't even want to know what you're suggesting. The answer is no, these aren't just my friends, this is my Pack you're talking about. You understand, Feathers? My family is at stake here, and you can't just Angel mumbo jumbo them away."

_Now hold up, you're the one who agreed to-_

"What I agreed to, Angel boy, is to help you hide under the radar until you could complete your mission. Which by the way, a heads up on what that might be could be nice since you happen to be using my body as your personal hotel."

_It's a need to know basis, kid._

"Then I fail to understand why you'll need my body anymore and you can kindly get the fuck out." Stiles turned and fell onto his bed, immediately pressing his thumbs to his forehead and rubbing counter clockwise circles into his skin to stop the pounding headache threatening to explode inside his skull. It was too much, werewolves? He can deal that card all day long. Lizard people who were once his classmates? Check and mate. Pack of Alphas? No match for a bunch of teenagers, brooding eyebrows and a dead guy. Angels? He might as well have dug his own grave on this one. "We need to lay some ground rules."

_You're telling an Angel you're making the rules? What part of celestial being that can burn your eyes out did you miss?_

"Let me lay it on the line for you Feathers, you're a caged bird. You aren't going to push me out of the way because it's all part of you laying low and staying off the radar. Kid with supernatural ties goes missing? That's a song that some little bird is going to sing to the wrong ears. You came to me for protection, so instead of ruining my life for your cocky better than thou Angel games, why don't you actually try things my way for a change."

_Is this what your people refer to as a negotiation?_

"This is what my people call coming to an understanding. You need to hide, for whatever stupid celestial reason; to hide you need to blend in with people. I would venture as far to say your people skills might be a little rusty, so what you need is a link to humanity. Me." Normally he would be smug about someone relying solely on him and him alone, but in this case he would rather be rid the responsibility and be free to worry about the next threat to werewolf existence, "What I need is for my life not to be disrupted, my friends not to lock me in a box and try to pry you out of me, and for dad to not have some kind of heart attack staying up all night worrying about where I am when you zap me to god knows where to do god knows what for your Angel hoodoo."

_Angels do not use hoodoo, and my people skills are legendary especially with the ladies._

"Seriously? That's what you got out of that? The need to inform me Angels don't use hoodoo?" Maybe there was some sort of Angel trade in program where he could trade in for a better model, somehow he was pretty sure he couldn't get that lucky.

_All right, lay these big bad, necessary ground rules on me. Might as well see what you're trying to lock me in for._

"OH good, we're agreeing to something. See Gabby, this is progress." Stiles couldn't help but sag with relief, maybe things wouldn't go so drastically wrong after all. "How about this, if you need to zap off to do some of your Angel stuff, you let me know and I'll make sure we're out of sight soon enough that it won't mess up your plans, but long enough that my pack doesn't freak out. Sound good for rule one?"

_Will there be many of these restrictions, I find them cumbersome._

_"_And I find you grating, as in your grating away every one of my strung out teenage nerves. Rule two, I want to be informed about what's coming after you, you can't just jump in my body and leave me in the dark about something that might potentially harm me."

_Kill you._

"Excuse me?"

_What is after me wouldn't bother hurting you. It would outright kill you and turn half of the town into black eyed meat puppets._

Stiles stared down at his toes, dread pooling in his stomach as Gabriel's words sank in. This was a serious game he had allowed himself to be involved in, and the reality that this decision could come down on not only his family's heads but the entire town drained the remaining snark out of his mouth. "What are the chances?"

_What, in it finding me? Dicaprio has a better chance at winning an Oscar._

"Too soon man, too soon. So can you beat it?" The silence in his head stretched on for a moment, leaving him with uncomfortable thoughts when the realization hit him. "You can't, can you? You're hiding because whatever you're hiding from has already defeated you once."

_You're sharp kid, got to give you that._

"What is it…Gabriel, what's after you?" His eyes closed, the comforting dark blanketing him as he waited, terrified for the answer.

_Lucifer. _

Notes:

I got the idea for this somewhere off Tumblr, I'm sure of it. Enjoy my brain puke, if enough people like it I'll continue it.  
Edit: It came from this post I reblogged ages ago (Yes, this is my personal blog)  
post/42265038002/agentotter-captain-snark-rubyrock 13

This wasn't originally going to be a supernatural cross over, although I always had that specific version of Gabriel in mind when I was writing this.  
(For those of you who read this first, yes I know it started out as Michael, I had every intention of keeping it that way, but Gab will be so much more fun to write.)

Somehow this is turned into a full blown crossover, where as I didn't originally intend to include Sam, Dean, Castiel and some of the other main characters it turns out you're going to see them after all. I'm a little concerned about writing them all in, if only for the fact that I don't want to mess up the characters, but the end result is going to be awesome if I pull it off. So i hope you all stick around for the ending and let me know what you think in the meantime.


	2. A little too much juice

"I'm not really sure what kind of problem you might be dealing with here, Derek." Deaton snapped yet another book closed with a weary sigh, "I think you'll find more answers by confronting Stiles than looking in any of these old tomes."

Across the room Derek looked just as exhausted, it was well into the hours of the night and he still had no answers that could hint at what Stiles was involved in. There was plenty of lore about things that covered scent trails, but there were telltale signs, none of which Stiles showed. "Is there anything we might be overlooking? Anything even close to what I've told you?" Thumbing another page forward and eyeing the entry disheartedly he finally shoved the book aside in frustration.

"There is a lot of information about a lot of different things in the supernatural world at our finger tips, and we haven't referenced anything close to what you're describing. I'm telling you, taking this discussion to Stiles is your best course of action." Deaton picked up a stack of books to reshelf, eyeing Derek from across the table tops, "Have you considered the idea maybe Stiles is just under stress? Maybe the toll of being part of a werewolf pack has taken too much from him."

A huff sounded out across the room, "You know that's not one of the possibilities. Stiles loves the research, and we both know he'll die on the front lines before letting one of us get all the glory."

"I think you'll find Stiles more concerned about the safety of your little group then the glory involved in the fights you find yourself placed in. But you know," Deaton paused, making sure Derek's attention was well placed, "If you really insist on digging up some leads you could turn to Peter for help." He raised a hand, cutting off Derek's initial objection with a well-timed rebuttal, "When Jackson turned, who found you the information you needed? Your pack would have been left in the dirt without his help, loathe as I am to admit it."

"Peter just complicates things." It's not that Peter hadn't made himself useful, death had apparently had a very grounding effect on his not so late uncle's morality lines, and while he might not have the cleanest hands, he certainly had made visible efforts to heal some of the nastier gashes left in their family tree. But that still left Derek with a lot of questions, Peter was shady by nature, and unless proved otherwise he had learned there were always underlying motives.

"I'll swing by Stiles place; see if I can't just get an answer out of him." Deaton slid another book closed; nodding his agreement at Derek's chosen action. It didn't take long to say their goodbyes and part ways, even though Deaton had become a valuable ally for the Hale pack most of their transactions remained fairly business. Faster than he would have liked he found himself on Stiles block, the Camaro engine breaking the silence of the night and the smell of leather and pack mingling in his nose. He parked a few houses down before sneaking around the side of the house and climbing his way to Stiles window, rapping his fist against the glass and waiting until a set of familiar hands were sliding the frame open and granting him entry.

"Kind of late for house calls isn't it?" Stiles finished striding away from the open window before plopping down in his computer chair backwards, arching an eyebrow in Derek's direction.

The Alpha shrugged, taking in the room like he had never entered it before. He picked up a few of the newer objects and inspected them, staying hopeful even when they offered no clues to Stiles recent behavior. Knowing Stiles, the most useful search wouldn't be in the physical sense, but he had enough social skills to know asking to look at his recent internet searches would get him kicked out on his ass. He could only hope he had some kind of open research book that might offer him a clue in the right direction.

"You've been missing school." His eyes slid over to watch Stiles reaction, surprised to see resignation written on his features.

"And here I thought you just missed seeing my face. Scott sent you, huh?" Stiles turned away, shuffling a few papers on his desk into a pile and placing them into a folder out of sight. "He worries too much. I've just needed some time to myself."

"Stiles…" Derek started, moving an inch closer to where his pack mate sat, "You and I both know it's more than that. If you're in some kind of trouble-"

Stiles turned around with a whirl of the chair, fixing Derek with his honey brown eyes and a sort of sarcastic grin that didn't belong on his face, "Look dude, I appreciate the whole 'pack dad' checking in on things routine. Good to know your human researcher hasn't been forgotten. I'm fine, you're clearly fine, and Scott needs to accept that everything is fine."

They stared at each other for a few moments, Derek desperately trying to figure out when Stiles had grown up 15 years and Stiles fighting inside his own head while maintaining his cool on the outside. The sound of Stiles phone chiming broke the tense silence and Derek moved toward the window, he would make no progress here tonight. "You know my number; the pack is here if you need us."

Silence was his answer, and he climbed through into the open air without another word. He had made it halfway back to where his car was parked before he got a mind to turn around and try again. Stiles had wormed his way into Derek's pack with his endless conversation and warm hearted sarcastic way of taking care of everyone, and Derek would be damned before he lost him over some supernatural problem. If one of his betas had a problem then the pack had a problem. He found himself back under Stiles window before he knew it, one hand reaching up was seconds away from knocking when Stiles voice rang loud and clear in his ears.

"This is practically a suicide mission." Derek's eyebrow raised, eyes curious as he moved and settled on the roof next to the window, hoping to hear more.

"You can't just hide out forever and hope they never find you, this is too big."

"Come on feathers, there has to be some kind of end game solution here."

Derek's curiosity was practically tangible by now, he leaned in closer hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever Stiles was speaking to or catch a voice from the phone. He pulled back quickly as familiar footsteps picked up and the window shot open, "You're seriously one step away from creeper status here, alpha my alpha."

He climbed inside as Stiles moved away, eyes roaming the room for signs of other life and finding none. "Who were you talking to?"

The sound of Stiles heart rate picking up made his eyes flick back to his pack mate, he knew whatever came out of his mouth next was going to be a poorly thought up excuse and he raised his hand to cut off the reply. "Look, enough of this 'everything is fine' crap. You know you can talk to us, right? To me?" Derek crossed his arms, leaning on the window frame and trying to pick up on any clues the small room might offer. "Are you in trouble, is it hunters?"

"I _am_ fine, a little worse for wear on the ADHD chart, but nothing I can't handle." Guilt was etched over Stiles face, his heart spiking again as he spoke.

Derek shot him another unconvinced stare and drank in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Watching Stiles fidget was always an interesting past time of his. That fact alone was the main reason he was able to clue into just how much Stiles had changed from the few weeks prior they had all been together. He wasn't just jittery, it seemed like he was constantly on the edge of making some snide comment but reeled himself back every time he remembered he had an audience.

"I don't mean to be a bad host, but maybe you could just jump your broody werewolf behind out the window that you crawled in through? I've got a lot of homework I'm behind on and if I fail one more test I've been informed I'm going to get the Finstock lecture of a lifetime." Stiles threw one arm behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes planted firmly on the window sill.

"You don't mean to be a bad host, and I don't intend to be a bad Alpha. Look, I know it's probably seeming like I want to push you into talking, but I need you to understand this. I need to know what's up with you. I'm your alpha, Stiles. It's like instinct compelling me to find out, and I won't be satisfied until I do." He crossed his arms a little tighter to his chest, trying to keep his cool at the frustrated youth across the room. "Give me something to work off here, because we both know you're involved in something. Your scent trail has all but disappeared, even from this room. Do you know how long it should take for someone's scent to disappear from a room they lived in all their life?"

Stiles fidgeted, an uncomfortable look plastered across his features, "It wouldn't."

Understanding flashed over Derek's face, "Stiles, what did you do?"

"I need you to leave."

"Stiles, what did you do?" The room became deadly silent as Derek took a step toward him, enunciating every word as Stiles backed against his door with a terrified look in his eyes.

"Derek, I need you to leave. Please." The feeling in the room was electric; it made Derek want to tear something to shreds and he knew his eyes were blood red. A low whine sounded across the room and it took him a few moments to realize it was coming from him. As he backed away the feeling died down, ending completely when his hand connected with the window sill even though he continued to keep eye contact with Stiles.

"You know this won't get dropped now." Stiles nodded, slow and calculating, eyes begging Derek to just climb through the window and be done with it. He removed himself from the room with reluctance, bee lining immediately for his car and blowing up his uncles' phone until he received an answer.

"Are you aware of the time?"

"We need to talk." Derek's eyes glared red in the rear view mirror as he sped down the lamp lit streets.

"Lovely, house calls." Peter drolled, "Well I'll assume you're on your way then."

A finalized click and silence was all that remained as Derek continued his drive, a hundred questions buzzing in his head. If Peter couldn't give him answers he had a suspicion he was going to be forced into methods he promised himself he would never use. But could he really do that? This was Stiles, stupid, bubbly, always in your business Stiles Stilinski. The human link they all needed. Dear god, what had he gotten himself wrapped up in?

Peter lived fairly close to the edge of town; renting a small studio apartment off the money Derek allowed him a month. It allowed him the freedom to remain close while not having to coexist with the rag tag band of teenage wolves, which everyone seemed to agree was for the best. Derek was thankful to see Peter already waiting for him at the complex entrance, a standard look of disinterest playing across his face as Derek parked on a darker side of the lot and made his appearance. His uncle gestured him inside, leading the way up what would have been an impossibly dark staircase for anyone who didn't have night vision.

Derek started his recap barrage as soon as the lock snapped shut behind him, "I need answers. Stiles has gotten himself wrapped up in something that none of us can figure out."

"Oh, tell me he's tangled with the faeries and gotten himself turned into some sort of fuzzy creature." Peter joked as he moved toward the area his laptop was stored, "A less talkative Stiles is a cuter Stiles."

"I can't believe I'm even entertaining the idea, but I wish that was the answer." Derek grunted, pulling up a chair near Peter's desk and massaging the area in between his eyes, "No, whatever he's got himself tangled up in, it's removing his scent. Not just from his body, but from his room and every other area he's inhabited."

The dull LED glow of the computer screen lit up Peter's features as he keyed in his password, "Well lucky for you that narrows down some key categories. Tell me more about what our ADHD riddled friend is symptomizing."

"No scent trail, energy that seems like it doesn't belong to him, he was talking to someone in his room but there was no one there and he wasn't on the phone. Scott says it's like he can disappear into thin air."

Peter's eyes drifted to the fan above them, "Talking to someone. Did you happen to catch the conversation?"

"Not much of it, he knew I had come back. All I heard was something about a suicide mission and hiding out."

Peter grew silent, typing in and pulling up pages at a rapid rate. Some he discarded almost instantly, some he mulled over and minimized, some he gave silent nods to as if he was agreeing with whatever was sprawled across the pages. After almost twenty minutes of no answers Derek started to get antsy, Scott had started sending texts begging for some kind of news on his friend which quickly turned to anger and frustration when none could be given.

"So do you have anything?" Derek grumbled, leaning into his uncle's personal space and ignoring the dirty look thrown his way.

"I thought I taught you years ago how totally rude reading over someone's shoulder was." Peter sighed, pushing Derek away with one hand and earning himself a growl from the testy Alpha. "I've got a few theories, none of which are rock solid. It's certainly a better start then you had before you enlisted my help, which should have been done from the start. How much time _did_ you waste trying to leave me out of the loop, anyway?"

"Less prodding, more theory."

"So ungrateful. Fine, I have two working theories, ah don't celebrate yet. The number sounds low, and that's pretty much where the good news ends." He looked almost amused as he ticked off the pages that didn't fit his theories, "The more obvious running possibility is possession. Simple enough to understand, but that's where the easy road ends." Moving a few pages so they could be seen simultaneously, Peter highlighted the first entry point, "The thing about possession is you have to figure out what exactly is doing the possessing."

Derek nodded, eyes skimming the articles in front of him, "Different signs for different things. What are we looking for?"

Zooming in on certain areas, the ex-alpha continued, "Ghosts, Demons, all of the sub classes that rest within those. One key thing is figuring out if Stiles is really Stiles." Peter tapped a clawed fingertip on the keyboard, a pensive look on his features. "It's rare that you'll find a creature with enough power to possess someone that's willing to allow their host to drive. Most people, when possessed, are shoved backseat, in fact more often than not they remember nothing when they regain control of themselves."

"From what I can tell," thinking back to his earlier encounter with Stiles he tried to pull apart the conversation, the body language and general way Stiles handled himself, "It was like Stiles was there, but there was something just under the surface. He just had this energy about him, and his entire room is scentless."

"And that's the part that bothers me. Ghosts, Demons…they possess a good couple hundred people yearly. I have collective stories from every corner of the world, from humans, hunters, our kind, all those other supernatural fiends that go bump in the night…not a single one references anything about scent masking." Peter's features took on a more grim expression as he ceased his finger tapping, pulling up another section of text. "This is what leads us to theory number two, which you will not enjoy at all."

Derek watched as multiple creature entries flashed across the screen, shape shifters, skin walkers, ghouls, things with names he had never heard. The summaries getting more and more grim as they went on, Derek's stomach churning the more his uncle read.

"All of these entries are creatures that can duplicate not only the body of their prey, but their memories, mannerisms, voices, and a number of other things. In at least 85% of them they kill the original. They're essentially doppelgangers, they become the person they take the form of, sometimes even making feeble attempts at leading normal lives before their true nature reveals itself and some hunter makes quick work of it."

He made a really valiant effort not to consider the chances, but the more he thought about the scent masking, the weird behavior, and that stranger lurking under Stiles familiar features, the harder it was not to connect the dots. "How do we find out for sure?"

Peter's grin made Derek's skin crawl, and his answer confirmed the answer he dreaded, "A number of unpleasant and likely painful ways. That is, of course, assuming dear old Stiles is still riding shotgun." A quick shoulder shrug followed as Peter wheeled around to face his nephew, "But before we rush into all the things I would have fun with, I'll do everyone a favor and do a little more poking around to see if we can't narrow down the playing field." The computer screen glared behind him, still filled with numerous pages, "After all, we do have so many eager players."

* * *

Stiles aggressively air quoted for the hundredth time, "I don't want to learn to 'harness the power of God', Gabriel. What I want is to eat these maple covered delicious doughnut bites and take a break from the insanity you've turned my life into."

_You offer a kid a chance to be all powerful and he turns it down in favor of becoming chubby. I can clearly see you're going to grow up to be a porn star._

An offended finger waved at nothing as Stiles crammed his fourth ball of dough between his teeth, making appreciative sounds as he chewed. "You promised me a Dicaprio time frame for odds of being found. If I choose to take a break from this entire Angel hoodoo business to appreciate the finer things in life, I'll do so at my leisure."

_You have_ **got** _to be kidding me. Look, Dicaprio or no Dicaprio, shit happens. What I need is for you to have some shred of idea how to tap into all the awesome mojo I have stored in the equivalent of your little finger. Capiche?_

"No capiche until after doughnuts."

_Dear God, why couldn't I get away with possessing Sam? At least then my ass would be covered with at least four different death insurance policies._

"I don't know who this Sam is, and you love these delicious balls of dough as much as I do. I feel the guilty pleasure seeping through your Angelic pores." Stiles licked a section of powdered sugar from his fingers, shooting sad glances at the now empty box before him.

_A little bit of _**focus** _, would make me very happy right now. We have more to work on then your tiny little mind can take in in the short time I need you to absorb it._

"What about those symbols you talked about? You keep saying we're short on time, putting them up now could make all the difference." Stiles reached over across his desk, scattering a few loose papers before coming up with what was recently a new notebook.

_We have to keep them out of sight, which of course in your tiny little living space should be ever so simple._

Stiles grimaced as he flipped through a few pages, studying the symbols now etched into the pages. "How many of these did you say have to be drawn in blood?"

_Enough to make you uncomfortable, any less and it just wouldn't be any fun._

"I love it when you're cute, just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside." He eyed his closet door where a bucket of black light reactive paint laid waiting on him, it felt better than focusing on the freshly sharpened knife waiting for him in his pocket. "I guess I should do the paint ones first. Dad won't be home for a few hours, most of them will be dry enough by then that I can get by with saying I had some weird school project."

_You aren't going to have time if the werewolf outside your window has anything to say about it. Creepy, by the way, your little wolf pack needs to learn the value of doors._

"Says the guy who pops into places in the blink of an eye." Stiles muttered under his breath as he turned to see Scotts anxious face peering through the glass, a single claw rapping against the clear surface. He moved, allowing Scott to slide into the room with a dopey smile which quickly turned downcast when he identified the sugary smell still lingering in the room.

"You didn't save me any doughnut bites." Scott frowned, a small sigh escaping him as he inspected the empty box on Stiles desk.

"Call ahead next time, you know the rule about those little pieces of heaven." They grinned at each other when Stiles dodged the box flung at his head, the air clear between them for a moment. "Your mom working late tonight?"

The wolf shrugged, "Normal shift, wanted to stop by and see how things were going." A careful feeling entered the room as Scott spoke. Stiles couldn't help but feel like a horse that was expected to spook at any moment, he immediately felt sorry for the creatures. Huffing and shifting from foot to foot slowly he watched as Scott started poking around his bedroom.

"Things are things, nothing to really report."

"You missed the last pack meeting."

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat, "Yeah, I'm pretty grounded after that whole two day thing." He jumped as Scotts eyes rounded on the open notebook filled with sigils, confusion flickering over his friends face. He crossed the room quickly, shoving the notebook out of sight and smiling nervously, "Stupid doodles. My art is just really garbage, dude."

"I've seen your art, that doesn't look like art." Scott looked defensive now, arms crossed with his serious business face on, "Stiles, what the hell is up with you?"

_Think of something, think of something! Oh, tell him it's for a contest, some sort of stupid logo. You win a vacation, blah, blah, blah._

"I'll win a vacation!" He blurted out, regretting it the moment the words poured from his mouth. "I mean, I'm making a company logo! It's for a contest. I guess I just got really caught up in it."

"A contest?" Scott repeated slowly, eyeing Stiles like Link with the lens of truth.

_You suck._

"Yeah, a contest for a vacation! It's for my dad; I've been trying so hard to keep it on the down low. I figured Jackson would never let it go and hey, who can blame me for trying to save the ridicule."

_I gave you an awesome excuse. And you suck._

"What company?" Brown eyes narrowed in suspicion as Stiles frantically thought up excuse after excuse.

_Oh here, let me save your ass again, try drum company. Half of them are circles, you know a guy who knows a guy who's starting a business._

"Drum company, I know this guy from the drag club who happens to know this other guy." He shrugged nonchalantly, a convincing smile plastered on his face.

"So…" Scott crossed his arms and let his eyes drift toward the ceiling, trying to decide if what Stiles was telling him was feasible at all, "you're creating a badge, for a drum company that hasn't been created yet, which is holding a contest to pick the winning logo. And the brand new drum company is sending the winner on a vacation? Isn't that a little…premature?"

A grin spread across his face, he knew he had Scott in the bag finally, "You would turn down a free vacation just because some company didn't know how to manage their funds?" They laughed in unison, Stiles savoring the momentary victory misdirection.

"I guess I need to head home. I promised mom I would actually do my share of house chores for the week." Scott made a quick gesture of checking his phone before turning toward the window, "You'll be at the next meeting?"

"Yeah buddy, sure thing. Friday pizza pack night, nowhere else I would rather be." Stiles grinned, knowing Scott wouldn't detect the lie because it wasn't one. There really was nowhere else he would rather be on Friday night, whether he would get to be there remained to be seen. He waited until 15 minutes after Scott had gone to let go of the breath he had been holding. He had fully assumed his next meeting with his best friend would hold at least one argument, but neither of them mentioned Derek's visit and as long as it stayed like that he could only hope things would stay fine.

Finally pulling the bucket of paint from his closet he set about finding the best places to paint the symbols, taking care to note the Angel banishing ones he would need to avoid completing.

* * *

Scott waited about 15 minutes after leaving Stiles room to pull his phone and call Derek, "I've got something that might help you out."

"Is it clear answers and a simple solution? If it's not I don't want it." Derek grumbled, clearly unhappy and at least partially sleep deprived.

"Too easy, but I do have a bunch of symbol things he's been sketching in a book." Scott ignored the part of him that felt a little guilty, if what Derek and Peter had been looking into was true that might not even be his best friend. The idea that Stiles was being held captive somewhere felt horrible, more horrible then the guilt of memorizing a few symbols and prying into his private life ever could.

"Sounds better than what we have. See you in a few." The alpha sighed gruffly, ending the call and leaving Scott looking back in the direction of Stiles home with a look of regret on his face.

Notes:

Somehow this is becoming a legit story with some kind of plot line. You go brain puke!

This is totally unbeta'd, mistakes are my own, feel free to point things out.

PLEASE, for the love of *insert favorite teen wolf/supernatural character*'s glorious ass, leave a comment. Or Kudos, or better yet try both. I get so many hits on both of my stories and maybe 1 in 30 (if that) will actually take the 2.5 seconds to press the kudos key. If you like it, let me know, if you don't like it then let me know anyway. Or ignore me, that seems to be working well so far.


	3. A meeting of sass

**_Lucifer_**

**_Lucifer…_**

"No, no, no.." Panic dripped from every word that escaped his mouth. The sound of footsteps echoed in his head as he ran on, afraid to look back for the figures that went bump in the night.

"Gabriel!" He was begging. He had been begging for over 10 minutes, the knife wound in his side throbbing as little bits of pure light drained from his pores. He tried not to glance at the way his skin was cracking and peeling away, he felt like he was about to explode.

"Stiles." A sing song voice echoed from behind him, "Stop running little mousy."

His heavy breaths sounded in his own skull like a drum, he rounded another corner and plastered himself into the darkness. He begged silently, Gabriel's name on his breath like a prayer. He winced as another breath was dragged into his lungs and he squeezed his eyes shut, the wound in his side twinging painfully.

_Run_

He barely heard the voice in his head anymore, Gabriel was barely holding on. He choked out a silent sob, trying to keep himself together even though his heart threatened to escape from his chest.

_STILES. RUN._

And he ran. He ran faster than he thought he ever could, one hand pressed to his side and one hand pressed to his ear as if to keep Lucifer's voice from overpowering Gabriel.

"We're gunna get through this, Gabe." He lied, he lied to himself, and to Gabriel whose voice had died down so low he had to strain to pick it up. He lied to his Pack, whose bodies lay long dead behind him, he lied to his father with the black eyes, he lied to the ruins of his school and town, but mostly he lied to himself. Because if he didn't keep lying, if he couldn't find the strength to keep chanting that they were going to make it out alive, he was going to let his legs rest and lay down and die.

"Gabe? Gabriel you keep talking to me. Come on Feathers, I need you." A wheezing cough seized his lungs, the smoke from his town choking the air around him, "Gabriel?" His eyes squeezed shut, feet carrying him forward until he collided with a solid mass.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel has checked out of the hotel." Lucifer stood, the image of a normal man with sinister intent lurking just under the skin, towering over his now fallen form. "Just take a look around."

Stiles eyes shifted against his will, falling to huge burnt marks that lay scorched into the earth on either side of him. He gritted his teeth, trying to choke back his failure as he stared at the faint trace of feathers in the dirt. Lucifer's laughter surrounded him, the grinning face of a madman waiting as he tore his eyes away from the destruction around him.

"And now we're going to have a little fun." The devil crouched down, face inches away from Stiles own, "Are you ready? We're going to have a real good time, Stiles. Just you and me."

He woke up screaming, body jolting upright as his bedroom came into sleep blurred view. Cold sweat drenched his body as visions of fire danced across his skin. "Gabriel?" He whispered at an almost inaudible level, afraid for silence to be his reply.

_You okay kid?_

"Did…" Stiles swallowed hard, relaxing his death grip on his blanket, "Did you see it?"

_Yeah. Yeah, I saw him._

"My dad…"

_I know…You need to take a deep breath. Come on, Stiles, you're starting to hyperventilate._

His breaths were coming in short heavy bursts and he groaned as his stomach twisted painfully. His heartbeat hadn't died down since the dream; it slammed painfully against his chest as Gabriel tried to talk him down. He wanted to close his eyes, but every time he did there was nothing but flames and burning flesh waiting for him. His panic attack peaked faster than Gabriel could reach him, hands reaching up and ripping at his hair as he struggled to breathe. As fast as it started it was over, honey brown eyes peaked out from between his arms and his entire frame relaxed.

A lengthy sigh passed through his lips before he stood, sauntering over to the computer desk where a glass of abandoned water and the book of sigils waited. "Sorry for shoving you backseat, Kid." A small chuckle sounded in the room as Gabriel stretched Stiles body, "Guess I understand though. It's a lot to handle; Luci can be a little bitch."

He debated poking around in Stiles brain for a while; he normally didn't force Stiles into a state of unconsciousness but given the circumstances he thought the kid could use a little R&R. There wasn't much that got shut out from the piggybacked Angel, between the ADHD and how naturally trusting Stiles was as a person he was pretty much an open book for the taking. In the first few weeks Gabriel had taken over when he wanted, but as far as hosts went Stiles was nothing if not accommodating, and Gabe really couldn't help but make an attempt to do the same. It was a strange situation, not taking over 100% wasn't just rare when an Angel took a vessel, it really wasn't supposed to be possible. So of course, Gabriel had chosen very carefully. Staying under the radar and out of the game depended souly on the lack of predictability he could conjure up, and if an Angel as powerful as Gabriel taking back seat in a vessel wasn't unpredictable he didn't know what was.

All he wanted was to get his original body back, they had been through so much together after all. But all the players in the game would have figured that move out in about a week, and this was too big to screw up. The key to Lucifers cage, and he had it in his tiny human hand.

_Literally._

Stiles face broke into one of Gabriel's trademark smirks as he examined the small burn mark in the palm of Stiles left hand. Stiles didn't even know it was there, which was for the best. It had been a pain in the ass to lock the object inside of the boy in the first place, but nowhere on earth, heaven, or the pit was safer. He moved over to the closed window, Beacon Hills Preserve was lit up with moonlight and he found it in his nature to be curious. In the blink of an eye he had transported Stiles body to the center of the woods, a burnt rusty shell of a house at his back.

Gabriel supposed in the end it had to be werewolves, they weren't all as bad as all the hunters made them out to be. Still, they were filthy and seeing as this pack were mostly teenagers he was so over this arrangement as he could possibly be. He liked that one wolf though, the one who resurrected himself through the dreams of that human girl. Dude was snarky on his best behaved day and Gabe imagined they would have had great fun together if he was able to get up to his old trickster gig again. The trickster and the sassy undead werewolf, what a combination.

"Lurking the ruins of my home in the moonlight?" A voice sounded out from inside the house, "Stiles, I didn't take you for a fool."

Speaking of Devil and he shall appear! Oh, Gabriel was going to have too much fun with this, what Stiles didn't know about while his psyche was mending wouldn't hurt him. "Yeah, well I took you for a creeper all along. At least one of us gets to be right." He didn't budge as Peter approached him, although he imagined Stiles himself would be flighty in this situation. "Are you out here catching little rabbits in your werewolf traps?"

"Aren't we the delightfully snarky one tonight." The two beasts smirked at each other as Peter circled what he thought was the younger Stiles, "Tell me, what brings you out into the woods so late on a school night? Trying to convince everyone you're A-Okay?" The ex alpha pointed a finger quickly in the boys direction, "Quick now, I can hear your heartbeat."

"I'm hunting little supernatural creatures with my gaydar." He did a quick victory dance before pointing directly at Peter, "Oh look! I found one."

"Very cute, Stiles. So tell me, what's the catch twenty two? We all know you tend to put your stubborn little nose everywhere it shouldn't have been." He tisked, "I have some interesting theories on where those places might be." The smile Peter showed him was purely predatory; it made Gabriel a little giddy. This, this is why he loved humanity and all of the mutations it spawned. And Luci wanted to just erase them, and for what? Some stupid beginning of time temper tantrum, what a waste.

"You have theories, do you?" Gabe shook his head, a noncommittal hum rumbled from his chest as he rocked Stiles body back and forth from the heels of his feet. "I imagine the theories are as clean and pure as everything else that comes from your mind. After all, leave it to the resident zombie to be the 'Angelic' one." Stiles would have screamed at him for that comment, for a moment he felt a stab of disappointment. He was being a bit obvious.

"I would love to sit around these dark, creepy woods and flirt with you, but I think it's time my scrawny ass moseyed on home." He made a clicking noise with his tongue, pointing both pointer fingers back toward Peter as he turned. "Good zombie chat."

"Let's not play like we're fools, you haven't even heard my little theories yet." Gabriel turned back slightly, just enough for Peter's face to be in view. The wolf had positioned himself against one of the many trees surrounding the estate while wearing a look of victory on his features, "Don't you want to know if I've caught on to you?"

Inwardly Gabriel was celebrating, the little dog wanted to play Guess Who? Damn Luci and his obsessive searching, this would have been the perfect Trickster card. "Who, what, when, where, why, and if you're really good…" He paused, teeth flashing as he grinned, "You'll even tell me how."

Maybe Stiles would be mad about this, but Stiles didn't understand Peter's game. Peter wasn't like the others, he was crafty, a survivalist. Even if he won, he _could_ go back and tell the others, but what would his price be? Peter might even decide to watch and wait, see how long they play the game without his help, because he loves seeing their faces when he comes out holding the winning cards.

"I could rip the answers from your one hundred and forty seven pounds of borrowed pale skin and fragile bones." Ah, there it was. The first cast out for the question of who, now how to take the bait from the hook.

"He who borrows sells his freedom." Gabe pulled Stiles' face into an innocent grin, "Unless you never had freedom to begin with."

Peter's eyes light up and he started to stand a little straighter. Little wofl had figured out the game had started, and if he's smart enough he might get some clues to put them on the right path. He isn't stupid though, he knows won't get any actual answers. Gabriel watches him as he considers his next question, curious what kind of supernatural creature the wolf thinks he's hunting. An Angel of the Lord, oh little puppy you aren't even in the right playing field.

The look in Peter's eyes gets dangerous instead of calculating, Gabe grins in response. Not only has Peter figured out his next move, he thinks it's a game changer. This should be cute. He watches as Peter comes closer, waiting until they're inches away from each other before one sharp claw extends and draws a thick line of blood across his arm.

Gabriel merely cocked his head to the side, eyes flicking briefly between the cut and the pair of blue eyes that waited for a reaction. "Did you know you're bleeding? You should probably clean that up, OH that's right, Werewolf healing. Lucky." He finished in a sing song tone as the wound stitched itself together. "I'm afraid I'm not a ghoul, good guess though. Very educated, just for that I'll throw you a bone."

"Your dog jokes are getting old."

"A damn shame, I've got a litter of them. Now do you want the bone, or do you want to keep struggling?" He fought to contain his glee as Peter's eyes flashed. The only thing that could have ever made this better is throwing him into some alternative universe and watching him wade his way out bloody. "Oh come on, be Sherlock not Anderson."

The wolf looked resigned for a moment, the challenge making him pull all his facts together. "You're a creature that can mask scents, move quickly, has built up energy the likes I've never seen. You aren't a ghoul, and so far I can't figure out if you've got Stiles trapped inside with you or if you've just taken his skin and disposed of the excess. You understand, of course, if the boy has been harmed you will be hunted down." Peter leaned in closer, all tooth and claw complete with snarling, "Like. A. Dog."

Gabriel yawned, Stiles was pulling at the strings of his control, ready to wake up and join the game like the extraordinary being he was. "Careful fangy, never know when you're touching on someone else's kinks." He laughed as Peter pulled back quickly, a bit of a guarded expression on his face. "Oh come on pooch, I could make it worth your while."

Oh this was precious, Peter looked down right offended. One of these days when all of this had rolled over he was going to get his old body and come back here, see if he looked so disinterested then. "It's the Stiles thing, isn't it? It's all cool, I understand, maybe another time." He shrugged, moving a foot away from Peter who was still eyeing him like he hosted the plague. "Well I have to tell you, this has been an absolute blast. I mean, bantering back and forth with Mr. Redead himself, how often do you get the honor? But really, School calls. I've even been told it's fairly important, keep me posted though! Seriously, only a phone call away."

It all happened really fast when Gabriel replayed it in his head later. In fact, if he promised himself a few hunters families would experience some strife and pain later once this was all over and done, that was no one's business then his own. The explosion rocked through the ruins of the hale house, knocking Peter directly into Stiles body and left them stunned on the ground. Gabe sent himself a silent prayer that he was in control and not Stiles or they would have wasted some serious time getting the hell out of dodge. It didn't take much to transport them to Derek's safe house where he could assess the damage. Thankfully by the time Peter regained his bearings and realized where he was Gabriel had already popped out of the picture.

The Hale house lay crumpled, a smoking ruin of a ruin. He supposed in some sense it was poetic, but he was never one for all that poetry nonsense. The entire ground was swarming with hunters, "Perfect, the Calvary." Circling around the house was easy, these poor saps never saw him bat an eyelash let alone survey the entire area. There wasn't many of them, twenty at most, all taking their directions from a tousle haired blond with a bad attitude. He stayed only long enough to gather information before deciding to return to Stiles house, the sooner he could fill in his brain mate the sooner they could get the pack ready for whatever blondie had in store for them.

Gabriel appeared in Stiles room without so much as a sound, immediately moving to the bed where he intended to relinquish control to Stiles.

_I want my body back._

"After you've calmed down, you're welcome to play driver again." Gabe flopped himself across Stiles bed, thinking to be thoughtful and plugging Stiles phone into the wall charger. They were in for what was looking to be a long night, better make sure the kid had communication.

_I don't want to calm down, Gabriel. I want you to give me my body back, now._

"Look, Stiles, you get your body back right now and you're going to wake up your dad because you want to give me the third degree. Why don't you get out what you need to say, as loud as you want to say it, inside your own head while I remain the calm and collected one?" He grinned, "Isn't logic fun?"

_Fuck you Spock, fuck you and your logic. What the hell is your problem anyway? That panic attack is your fault, what I'm seeing in my head, it's YOUR fault Gabriel. Yours and this stupid situation you dragged me into._

"Stiles, you needed to take a break for a while. What you saw…what you saw was more than any person should have to endure. And now with this attack.."

_A break? A break, Gabriel? A break is you putting me back seat long enough to calm down and then putting me right back. A break is NOT you popping yourself in main gear and going out to have a nice little tea party with Peter fucking Hale! And popping in and out of the safe house in front of Derek and Scott? Nice trick Feathers! Can't wait to play 20 questions with Derek about that one._

"You're angry, I get it. But Stiles, you can't even say it wasn't the right move. What if Peter was injured, huh? What then?" He sat back up, eyeing himself in Stiles mirror on the wall, "This attack wasn't made by your local hunters, it's bigger than that. Now I know you're mad about earlier, and I have no intention of staying front seat unless you want me to handle this, but right now we need to get back to Derek's little hole in the wall and fill your big bad alpha in on what's going on."

Stiles remained silent, no doubt brooding over Gabriels words and working himself down from his anger. Gabe took the silence as a green light, signals were never his strong point, standing up from the bed and stretching. "Look, I'm going to pop back in on the gang and give them the whats what. You decide you want to be the one with the voice box, just say the word."

* * *

"I don't get it, what are they?" Scott looked over Derek's shoulder for the hundredth time, oblivious to how irritated his Alpha was becoming. They had been at this for the last two hours with no answer from either Deaton or Peter to help them.

"For the thousandth time, Scott, I don't know yet." He flipped another page of the symbols Scott had crudely drawn out, thankful that the beta had picked up some kind of skill in the time they had been training.

"Well why hasn't Deaton gotten back to you? This is important!" Scott fell back onto the recently rescued couch Erica and Isaac had come across. Derek amused himself with the thought of ordering Scott to go home, his patience long ago thinned by the aggravated teenager.

"You could call him for the hundredth time. Clearly that's getting the job done." He reached for his own phone as Scott huffed disheartenedly behind him, the screen lighting up to confirm none of his texts had been answered. The longer it took for Peter to answer him the more anxious he became. Letting Peter go had been a bad decision, he needed his research skills available instead of where ever he slipped off to.

Scott started in with his questions again as Derek bit back a groan and plastered his hand against his face. "Scott, go home. You can't help me by lurking around anxiously, and you have school tomorrow." He understood the kid was worried about his best friend, but he was going to have to worry about his face in a moment if he didn't get away from the sleep deprived Alpha as soon as possible.

Right as Scott moved to walk out the door, sullen under the breath comments on his breath, Peter and Stiles appeared before their very eyes. Peter looked a little worse for wear as Stiles deposited him unceremoniously onto the couch. Derek gawked, mind still processing what he was seeing, as Stiles turned toward him. The youth did a quick wave salute with a cocky grin plastered on his face before vanishing, leaving a groaning Peter to answer their questions. Scott and Derek shook off the initial shock before moving over to Peter who just waved them off.

"Where the hell have you been?"  
"What the hell just happened?"

Scott and Derek asked their questions simultaneously while Peter glared at them looking for all the world like he wanted to knock their heads together. "Leave it to that cocky bastard to just drop me off without explaining a thing." He shifted himself, wiping a thin trail of blood from his already healed lip, "We got blown up, newsflash, you don't have to hire a wrecking crew." Another growl rumbled through the room as one of Peters ribs stitched itself together.

"As to where I've been, I _was_ talking with what used to be Stiles. Good news, not a ghoul, isn't progress fun." Peter's voice held a hint of resentment as he talked about their packmate, "I can't promise you Stiles isn't in there, but I can guarantee he isn't holding the reigns right now. As you can see he has some interesting abilities, apparently he can poof." His eyes flicked dangerously to Scott, "Told you he was a fairy."

Scott looked scandalized, Peter would have laughed at him if the situation was a little less suck and a little more dry humor appropriate. "Is he really a fairy?"

"Oh yes, he just flew us from view all nice and calm while tiny naked fairies came and sang songs about meadow wheat. No, Scott, he is not a fairy. There was no fading, no great glowing light in the sky, I don't know what he is, but he doesn't have little fairy wings." Every one of them was going to choke on Scotts emotions here in a minute if he didn't calm the hell down, "Now, Scotty, would you please go leak your over active teenage hormones on some other wolf who isn't trying to solve your problem? Go run it off." Scott huffed, eyeing Peter carefully as he dismissed him but agreeing and was gone in a matter of seconds.

Peter and Derek were staring each other down, Derek looking exhausted but determined and Peter looking unbalanced. "Look, we need to figure this out, I know you're healing but I need you to look at this. When Scott was over with Stiles earlier he found some drawings in a notebook." Flipping back to the best representation he could find of Scott's quick sketches he turned them toward his uncle. "Any ideas?"

Peter stared down the symbols, a calculating and intrigued look on his face as he studied them. "I'll have to check some resources, they look vaguely familiar."

The conversation was interrupted by Stiles voice, "I had a feeling Scott got a little too invested in that notebook." Stiles smirked as Derek and Peter jumped halfway across the room, claws on the defensive as they stared him down. "Hello boys."

Notes:

Okay, so first off this is un betad, all mistakes are my own. I may be making updates to this chapter, I just really wanted to get it posted before I went to bed because tuesdays are really hectic for me.

I had a comment somewhere about this story not feeling like it was over, that was my fault as it looks like I forgot to delete the amount of chapters included. This story has quite a few chapters to go and is no where near done.

Any suggestions, comments, complaints, feel free to let me know. I've been trying to capture Gabriel and Peter's personalities the best i can, if for any reason you feel I've failed i'm all ears.

To all you who left such lovely comments and followed either me or this story, bless you you wonderful people. I just simply adore your faces and if any of you have tumblr accounts i'll gladly follow you all and love all of your posts and reblog all your things. 3


	4. When the levee breaks

"What, no welcome home?" Gabriel shrugged as he took a seat near the couch, looking every bit a relaxed teenager. "What a shame, I thought you were both more civilized than that."

He ignored Derek's intense glare and Peter's calculating gaze. He brought his attention to Stiles cuticles, the human hands tended to be filthy and he often amused himself by picking at the dirt trapped under the clear nail. "I checked out your little hunter problamo." His tone started out nonchalant, gaze rising up to meet Derek's, "Sorry about your house dude, total lost cause."

Derek ignored the comment even though it clearly hit him hard, instead holding up the now slightly crumpled piece of paper that held…crude recreations of his earlier work. "What are these?"

"Not important. Now, I spied with my tiny human eyes….TWENTY! Twenty little hunter ants, ready to pluck your furry werewolf heads off." His smile radiated varying levels of sarcasm, "I also checked out your local kill the baddies faction, and they're in just as much of a muck as you are. So you can cross little miss Allison off your 'Who dun it" list." Holding one of his hands in the air as if to stop Derek and Peter from talking he continued, closing his eyes and faking modesty, "Now, now, no need to thank me. It's all in an honest day's work."

"Take me there." Derek stood, ignoring Peter's gruff laugh from behind him. If his house was burning to the ground he wanted to see it himself and damn the consequences. The pack had put in a lot of hard hours over the last month trying to rebuild those shattered walls, and now it was all for nothing but smoke and ashes.

Gabe stared Derek down for a minute, a yawn stretching his lips into a wide 'O', "I already told you, I checked it out. The place is crawling with hunters; you're better off staying away for a few hours."

The Alpha stalked toward Gabriel, murderous intent glaring from his eyes, "You're going to take me there, now. This is your fault, coming in here and taking Stiles from us, because for all we know these bastards followed YOU here."

A groan filled the small room as Gabe's head fell back and he looked at Derek with unimpressed eyes. Peter chimed in, almost forgotten from the couch behind them, "I'm sorry, we can't hear your answer. Perhaps you could speak up?"

"You're kidding, right? Man and I thought I was the trickster. Fine, buck up Chuckles, you puke on me I'll leave your ass with a nice red bow." Gabe stood up slowly, exasperated from the demands of all of these people. Part of him wanted to pull the 'I'm an Angel of the Lord' bullshit with all the lightning and fury he could muster, maybe that would shut them up. He reached out for Derek's arm, shooting him a look when his leather clad shoulder retracted, "I know birds less flighty then you, you wanna do this or not?"

Finally laying his hand on the Alpha he transported them a safe distance from the smoldering house. A few stray hunters remained, looking for any sign of the Hale pack with watchful eyes. "What a bunch of stupid wanna be heroes, the lot of them will probably be dead as a doornail by the end of this." He rolled his eyes as the sound of dry heaving filled the air, "This is why we aren't as close as you wanted to be, you can thank me later."

He continued to check out the hunters for any signs of ulterior motives or traps that would catch them unaware. Satisfied they had every intention of retreating, Gabe finally turned to look at the shaky wolf behind him, "First time travel can be a little hard on the stomach muscles. Sorry for the shocker, now if you can kindly attract your attention to matters at hand I can get your liability having ass out of the fire zone." He watched as Derek stood, shooting daggers in his general direction but moving closer so he could check out the men who had destroyed his home.

"The only thanks you'll be getting from me is when you give us Stiles back, if you can even do that." His voice was shaky but resolved, hands in front of him gripping a tree branch tight as he zoned in on a newcomer, clearly trying to place faces. Gabriel gave a noncommittal shrug, choosing not to reply as Stiles poked at him from inside his brain.

_I didn't realize they…he cared this much._

_Why wouldn't they, you __**are**__ pack aren't you?_

_Well…yeah, but they only come to me when there are problems. This whole thing is still so new, I guess I didn't realize they actually needed me as much as they do._

_I wouldn't call it a matter of_ need_ as much as they seem to actually want you back. Quick, be annoying, maybe I'll drop you off and run._

_You aren't funny._

"What did you do to him, anyway…is he dead?" If Gabriel wasn't what he was he might have answered that question with his normal sassy attitude and game playing personality, but he could feel Derek's control slip even as the words passed from his lips. If Derek was facing him Gabe was sure he would be seeing red, so he did the only thing he could do. Deflection, deflection, deflection. Or at least that's what he would have done if Stiles hadn't asked for his body back. Total bummer, he didn't ever get to keep his playmates very long.

Gabe had been absolutely right about Derek's control being on the fritz, but that didn't stop Stiles from placing his hand on the Alpha wolf's shoulder and meeting his snarl with a familiar worried stare. Derek was more than familiar with it, it was the same look Stiles would get when someone wasn't getting enough sleep, or skipped too many meals. It was the look Stiles gave him when Derek buried himself too far down in the past, and now it was the look Stiles was giving him to let him know he was worrying too much. They stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time until Stiles reached up and scratched one of his moles, his mouth scrunching up as honey brown eyes looked skyward, "If you don't say something this is going to get really awkward."

"You're you." Derek's eyes widened and his hands clammed down on Stiles arms like he was going to disappear, even if his defense on that was solid. "You're actually you, not punch you in the face you!"

"Ouch dude, that's a little harsh, don't you think? I mean, he isn't that bad." Stiles shrugged the best he could with Derek holding him in place, "I mean, he's a little rough around the edges and his people skills could use some serious work," a grin plastered his face as Gabe objected loudly, "but all in all he's a pretty okay guy."

"I need you to talk to me, are you possessed, are you being held against your will? Tell me what you need me to do." Derek shook Stiles, realization catching up with him that Stiles could be replaced any minute, "What are we dealing with, we'll get it out of you. Are these hunters after it? Are you in danger?"

Stiles took the rush of questions in stride, Gabe's laughter sounded through his conscience as all of Derek's concerns became verbal. "Dude, you have to slow down, you're worse than Scott when he gets sugar. Come on, clearly I'm fine, I don't need you running off and chopping the leg off a lamb for some weird ritual." He sighed, sitting on a nearby tree stump and placing his head in one hand as he looked at Derek like he was trying to unravel the secrets of the universe.

_Don't tell him, this isn't the time or place. He came out here for a reason; make him finish it so we can get back._

"You're right." Stiles hummed, head nodding slightly coupled with a slight shoulder shrug.

"Right about what, you being in trouble?" Derek took a step closer to Stiles who sat up a little straighter and waved his hands in a negative gesture.

"No, no, sorry man I wasn't talking to you, didn't even mean to say that out loud. Anyway, we need to get a move on, even with the pack house being fairly far out a fire like this is still going to attract attention." Standing up Stiles made his way closer toward the direction of the house, bumping a fist into Derek's arm as he passed with a regretful look on his face, "I really am sorry about the house, I know you had a lot of hopes for the old girl."

"I've seen what I needed to; these guys aren't part of Argents group. Let's head back and regroup everyone at the safe house, I know Scott will want to talk to you." Derek made it a few feet in the direction of the road before Stiles called back to him; he turned around with a weary gaze half expecting Stiles not to be Stiles. Instead he was met with an almost regretful look that unmistakably belonged to his Beta, "What?"

Stiles laughed softly, head tilted, eyes sad as he reached a hand up toward Derek's head, "You've got something on your face, it looks stupid. Let me get it off or Peter will make fun of you for years." Derek didn't think to object, the shock of being able to talk to someone he convinced himself was dead was still so raw in his mind he probably would have let Stiles do whatever he wanted. He didn't catch the under breath apology until it was too late and Stiles fingertips were brushing the skin on his forehead.

Scott jogged into view, questioning gaze resting on Derek as the Alpha caught onto what had happened. His mouth opened to ask why Derek had come outside but ended in only a muffled squeak as Derek slammed his fist into the nearest object. Betrayal raged in Derek's mind as he stalked toward the entrance of the complex, alone and without answers.

* * *

It wasn't even halfway through the day but Stiles had more than had enough. Not like he didn't feel bad about the way he handled yesterday, but dealing with Scott's wounded puppy stares were probably going to be the death of him. He sunk a little lower in his chair, just enough that he couldn't see Scotts mouth form that stupid pout thing he did. He could only escape it for so long, the bell for lunch was just about to sound off and he knew better than to think he wouldn't have the entire pack scrambling over each other to question him. Everyone except Jackson, who he had a sudden fondness for due to his thankful lack of interest in Stiles personal life, he would make a thank you for not caring card but it would just get ripped up while being eyed with disinterest.

He long exhaled with the bell when it chimed, slowly gathering his belongings and inching toward the hallway at a pace so slow the glacier that sank the Titanic would have laughed at him. He hadn't even passed the threshold of the classroom door before Scott was right before his face, Boyd and Erica surprisingly nearby with curious looks on their faces. "Dude, can you not? I can't answer your crazy questions about my notebook."

"Stiles." Oh no, not the whining, god his life was cursed. Was it worth it to skip lunch? What was today….no…curses its taco day.

_I do love Tacos._

_Hush you, none of your shenanigans today._

"Scott, seriously, It's taco day. Do you know what that means? Actually, please don't answer that, I'll just tell you. Taco day is the day that Lydia always scornes because she thinks the taco is processed dog, it's also the day that Isaac gives away his lunch token in exchange for the salad bar. That means Stiles gets not two, but six delicious, cheesy, extra meat tacos because the gods have smiled down on me and the lunch lady has a crush on my dad." Stiles stops dead from his track to the lunch room so he can face Scott with a menacing stare, "If you ruin this for me with your ever persistent questioning I will never forgive you."

Scott gives the back of Stiles head a look like he wants to say something and is weighing his options with personal safety. "But…"

"Scott, say it with me brother, TA…CO..ZZZ" Stiles makes wide arm gestures as he draws out the word tacos, moving through the lunchroom door with Erica at his heels. Boyd pats Scotts shoulder as he walks by, offering him a look that at least shows he understands the concern Scott is trying to express. Most of lunch goes off without a hitch, Stiles repeating his 'don't ruin my tacos' speech only once more to the entire group so that they understand the fury that will be wrought upon them should they impede his meal. He tries his hardest to take his time so he can get away from any questions the pack has, but he can only devour six tacos so slowly, and with fifteen minutes still left on the clock he finds himself staring down seven curious eyes.

"Do we really have to go through the 'I don't want to answer questions' routine today?" Stiles asks slowly, hoping to catch someone off guard and show they were weak to his cause. He huffed when only met with a few halfcocked eyebrows and unrelenting stares, making a quick mental note never to spare any of them from future torment. "Fine, let me just lay down the line right now and get it out of the way. No, I will not explain what's going on, no, I will not answer any questions, yes, I am one hundred percent fine and dandy, yes, I saw the Hale house explode, and last but not least mind your own business." He worked around the glares and Scott's disgruntled expression as he slow clapped for himself, "Now THAT was a Q&A!"

Scott surprised everyone at the table by standing up and slamming his hands down on the table, "I've had it with you and your stupid secret! Whatever you have yourself wrapped up in we need to know about it. How can you not understand we want to help you?" Everyone grew quiet with the exception of Lydia, who let out an exasperated sigh and flicked her hair over her shoulder. On a better day Stiles would have appreciated the action, knowing that Lydia understood when not to push a subject. He pushed his lunch tray away without saying a word, eyes shut and shoulders relaxed the image of the calm before the storm.

"You know what, Scott, I think you're right." The admission was said softly, eyes still closed so he couldn't see the hopeful expression on Scotts face.

Scott fidgeted, obviously wary of the sudden change in attitude, "Really?" Across the table Erica and Boyd exchanged glances with Isaac, silently figuring out who was going to defuse Stiles.

When Stiles finally opened his eyes he looked directly at Scott, fury brimming just under the surface while being practically tangible enough every wolf at the table became automatically uncomfortable. He stood up slowly, placing his hands against the surface just behind the abandoned food tray and moving his chair far enough away with his foot that he had room to move. "Yeah, since you are the absolute model of honesty. I mean, who needs to look any further than your excellent leadership example with Gerard to see that honesty and friendship are your number one priority." A few surrounding tables had started to take notice of the scene playing out in front of them, Allison looked around nervously and shot a pleading look at her packmates.

"Or all the times when I needed you and you never answered, clearly I'm the one who owes you an explanation." Stiles could feel Gabriel feeding off his anger; he could tell the Angel didn't mean to, most likely it was all part of living in the same body. But something just triggered when Stiles thought of all the times his best friend abandoned him, kept the truth from him, placed in second when he desperately needed to be first even if it was only a little bit. The bruises, both emotional and physical, the lies he told to keep Scott safe tumbled into one festering pain filled wound, he didn't even know Erica had stood up and started pulling him away from the table until they were halfway out of the lunchroom.

Scott stared at the empty chair his best friend had just vacated, Allison's smaller hand in his own as the entire pack stared at the perfect half circle of cleared off table where all the inanimate objects had been pushed away by some sort of force. "Kid's got problems." Jackson remarked, taking a bite of his taco before Lydia kicked him hard under the table.

Stiles had no idea how far through the school they were until Erica shoved him into the boy's bathroom door. He stared after her for a minute as she barred the entrance and checked for anyone who may still be inside. Obviously satisfied they were alone and would remain undisturbed she wheeled around to face him, "You can cross any job off your list of life goals that involves handling high stress situations, because you just failed your test run."

"Erica, can you explain to me why you just locked us inside the boy's bathroom?" The bathroom was dingy and if he had to listen to Gabe mention how many STD's lurked around public restrooms one more time he was probably going to vomit.

"Because you needed to calm your tits and you weren't going to do it anywhere else. Do you even realize you just moved at least four objects and some rice about a foot away from you on that table without touching it?" She rolled her eyes and scoffed, one carefully manicured hand rooted to her hip, "Of course you don't. Look, I'm not going to ask you what's going on, because I'll have that answered eventually, but clearly you can't handle being around everyone and so I'm going to use you to my advantage."

_Sounds kinky, I like her._

"Wait a minute, calm my tits? And what do you mean I moved…you know what, I'll just take that one in stride. What exactly are you using me for?" If he didn't have an arch angel at his back he might feel a little frightened of whatever Erica might cook up, hell even with Gabe being there he was a little afraid for his life. "I warn you, I like babies and puppies and refuse to sacrifice anything."

"Oh come on, give a girl a little credit Batman." Stiles couldn't duck his grin fast enough, "You thought I forgot didn't you? All right, official Batman and Catwoman skip school day."

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, "Yeah, I think I could use that right about now. But how are we getting out of here?" He started eyeing any possible exit points in the bathroom before Erica recaptured his attention.

The she wolf laughed, it was one of those sarcastic but real laughs that made her awesome and forced Stiles to appreciate her a little more, "I think you have that covered, don't you?" She eyed him critically, "Or have you forgotten you apparently have your own warp pad?"

Stiles shrugged, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he dug his hands into his hoodie pockets, "Where to captain?"

Erica's face grew thoughtful, "What's the limit? Any restrictions I should know about?" She smiled, arm curling through his, "Are you secretly The Doctor?"

"Right then, Erica Reyes, you tell me. Where do you want to go? Backwards or forwards in time. It's your choice. What's it going to be?" He laughed as she punched his chest, both grinning in unison, "I didn't know you were a fan."

"Right because you're the Erica Reyes expert, come on Batman, spirit me away."

* * *

They were all ignoring the giant elephant in the room. This elephant was mainly Scott, who had continually been glaring at Erica and Stiles since they appeared for the pack meeting twenty minutes ago. The pair was contently munching on Galaxy chocolate bars while Allison gushed over the details of their trip and Erica's new hat, some sort of London only design. Because, of course, Stiles could just pop them into London like it was no big deal. Peter could have cried from laughing over this whole thing. If this was happening to anyone else they would have pulled resources from thin air to get rid of whatever was inside them. Instead here they were. 8 pm on a Friday night, eating pizza and listening to Stiles tell them how he absolutely had to sing werewolves of London four times while Erica tried on clothes.

Scott was miserable, he had made that perfectly clear before Stiles and Erica had just popped in. Peter had been ready to sever the poor boys vocal cords and put them all out of his misery. And Allison, his darling little girlfriend who was trying so hard to be understanding while still telling Scott he had been out of line. Precious. His nephew caught his eye again, he knew Derek was still secretly furious about how he had been ditched yesterday but had clearly elected not to do anything about it. He rolled his eyes at the look he received, as if Peter could just pull an explanation from nothing. If he didn't have anything after Derek kept him up researching all night why on earth would he have one now?

"I don't mean to interrupt your happy little recount of an impossible day trip to the other side of the globe," He started, half lidded disinterested eyes scanning the room, "We do have slightly larger issues at hand, such as my home burning down, hunters coming out of nowhere and the still untold explanation of how you're doing what it is you're doing. Oh don't look at me like that; I'm not going to rip the answers from your flesh or anything."

The little group shuffled together uncomfortably as Derek tried to fill everyone in on the details of last night and his early morning reconnaissance check of the property. There weren't many details to go off of other then what Gabriel had laid on the table, Derek had Allison checking into some things at home to see if there were any details about this new group of hunters. They were left unfortunately shorthanded. Peter let things go until about halfway through the meeting before breaching the topic everyone had suddenly become dutifully oblivious to, "So, Stiles, mind if we pick your brain for a while."

The teen tried his hardest to stay relaxed, but Peter saw through his body language in a seconds time, "Now, now, don't get all tense on us. Share with the class. Might you have any ideas why these new hunters have graced us with their presence and deemed my home worthy of demolition?"

"Must be your charming personality, you just light up like Christmas when you talk about demolition and dead things." He grinned sarcastically, "Such a charmer you are."

Peter started to reply, stopping instead as his eyes pinned to the door, "Shut up."

"Oh come on now, don't tell me-"

"I told you to shut up, now close your mouth and let me listen." The other wolves picked up on Peter's sudden demeanor change, he signaled Derek towards the door and the Alpha moved directly into position. The faintest sound of footsteps could be heard near the end of the hallway, a few soft whispers and a barely audible ticking.

Derek moved away from the door, eyes never leaving the frame as he stood close to his pack, "They're going to attack, might be some kind of explosion. Stiles." Derek gestured him to come closer, trying his hardest to keep his voice down, "I need you to be serious right now, do we need to cover you like we would normally."

It was Derek's hand out, his way of saying he believed Stiles knew what he was doing and his way of asking what everyone needed to know. He was asking if he needed to consider three humans or two. "No cover needed, I'm all G.I. Joe over here." Stiles looked back at the girls, gut wrenching, "Let me take you two out of here. Allison, we can get to your house and you can handle possible reinforcements, if you two get caught in a blast we're going to be in bad shape. I need your answer now."

Gabriel could pick up the faint tick and how it was growing closer together, he urged Stiles to take the brief silence as answer and get the girls out now. He took the few short steps over to Allison and Lydia, grabbing an arm on both of them and pulling them against him. It took him seconds to relocate them and return, the pack already bracing themselves for the blast.

"Can we shield it?"

Let me take over.

"Done."

Stiles slipped backseat, Gabe taking over and immediately positioning himself in front of Stiles pack. He smirked, hearing the ticking wind down as he prepared himself. "It had to be wolves." He sighed, the blast breaking the walls apart in front of them.

Notes: Still un-betaed, sorry for any mistakes. I didn't even mean to write this all tonight, it just kind of happened. I wrote out the entire timeline for this story and just went to town. We're looking at anywhere from six to 9 more chapters depending on how things go. I have three chapters 100% planned and then after that we'll have to see. Hope everyone is loving it, i know i'm having a blast writing it.


	5. Truth Jeopardy

Peter had watched Stiles remove the girls and appear again in the blink of an eye, his normally cheerful face grim as he stared at the closed door in front of them. The seven of them braced themselves, the ticking slowing halting its countdown. He could see Erica, Boyd and Isaac huddle close together, readying themselves for whatever was going to come through that door while paying close attention to Derek. They could keep their eyes on Derek all they liked; his eyes were going to stay on Stiles, because if the concentrated and ready look on his face told Peter anything it was that he was going to pull another winning card from his pocket.

The final tick sounded off with a shrill beep, the only warning they would have had before being blown apart if not for their hearing. Almost everyone flinched as the walls started ripping apart, expecting the debris to come flying at them faster than any of them could hope to block. Peter stayed standing, feeling satisfied his hunch was correct as he watched a particularly large chunk of plaster fall a few feet short of their group. If seven people being totally unaffected by a head on blast wasn't one of the most interesting phenomenons to happen in his life than seeing Stiles bathed in bluish white light certainly was.

He had only a few moments to take in the sight before the light faded and Stiles turned to face the group, forcing everyone to focus on his voice as he barked commands. "Everyone soldier up, you've got probably less than a minute before the dust clears enough for the hunters to see and then we're in for it." Stiles moved over to Scott, helping him up from where he had fallen when from the blast impact, "I need all of you claws ready while we have the element of surprise."

Sure enough as soon as Stiles finished talking the bullets started to wiz by, one clipping the unfazed teenager in the shoulder. Again, Peter seemed to be the only one to catch what happened next, the rest of the group intent on shaking off the shock and finding the first hunter they could rip apart. Stiles reached up as Scott sprinted past him, eyes yellow and fangs bared, his hand finding the now bloody rip in his shirt with a displeased expression on his face. Peter half expected Stiles to disappear from where he stood, surprised instead when he turned and sauntered slowly through the now gaping hole of their meeting room. It didn't take long for Stiles to find one of the hunters, they were everywhere after all and with his new skills he seemed to have no issue seeing through the still settling dust from the blast. Peter rounded the corner, staying in the shadows as a roar came from one of his packmates.

He watched silently, Stiles catching the man completely off guard as he appeared in front of him with a sadistic smile on his face. The boy caught him mid knife swing, holding him with one arm effortlessly as his other came to rest on the man's face. The light that burst forth was bright enough Peter immediately looked away, body flattening against the wall he had peered around.

"What the hell kind of creature shoots light beams from their hands?" Peter laughed the question out, feeling a little tug of previous insanity creep around his brain. His thoughts got interrupted again as his nephew sped by him, the tattered body of a hunter still well gripped in his claws as he neared Stiles. He huffed, moving so he could see that both of them had already dropped the bodies they were holding before moving on to find their next target, Derek close at Stiles side. The dust had mostly settled by now, only stirring when another piece of the building crumbled or when an even unluckier hunter got slammed into something, unfortunately this made for easier targets on both sides.

About halfway into the Derek/Stiles tag team of a very unfortunate hunter, an equally idiotic man who wanted to play hero placed a well-aimed bullet directly into Stiles stomach. It took Derek about two seconds to realize what had happened and about one second to go absolutely ballistic, shifting full Alpha in the middle of a step toward the fool who shot Stiles. He laughed as 'Mr. Hero' was confronted with a giant Alpha wolf with a serious anger problem and turned away as the hunters screams filled the hall.

Peter returned his attention to Stiles, who grunted as he dug the bullet from himself with all the grace of a field doctor, tossing the bullet aside and shifting his eyes toward a noise in the distance. Normally he would have acted on such a movement, but being that Stiles wasn't really Stiles he figured, why not capitalize on actions. And besides, the kid walked off about a minute afterward like nothing happened, so observation was fair game.

He moved near the walls, staying out of view as he followed the packs very own light-bright further into battle. This display of bloodshed was tacky, he was better off keeping his hands clean and figuring out what made Stiles tick. He watched him dispose of two more insubordinates before stopping, back turned toward Peter but clearly looking at something or someone. He made a quick mental note cursing the design of these absurd hallways, promising himself that he would pick the next safe house they came across. Moving so he could get to a better vantage point and put eyes on whatever had stopped Stiles from progressing wasn't the easiest thing to accomplish, but he managed.

An older man in an unnecessarily conservative suit stood before him, a wry smile spread on his lips. Peter smirked at Stiles unimpressed stance and bored foot tapping, a good bluff that the man was clearly buying. He watched them for a moment, waiting to pick up on the purpose of this other man before catching instead the quiet footsteps creeping up behind him. Peter's eyes rolled sarcastically as his face pinched with annoyance, waiting until the most opportune moment to catch the woman behind him unaware. He disposed of her with little noise, wiping his claws on the bottom of his pants and turning back to the half played out scene in front of him.

Stiles had what looked like a glorified metal pike in his hand and to his credit was wielding it with at least some practiced grace against the suit man. Peter might have stepped in if it actually looked like either of them had any intention of defeating each other. No, he imagined this was more of a 'who's the bigger badass' type of thing, and really who was he to step foot into a cock fight.

"Gabriel, you're honestly just stalling. Why don't you come on home and we can talk about this?"

Well if that wasn't the falsest attempt at a peace extension he had ever seen, Peter couldn't have made it more sarcastic if he had said it himself. But that whole 'Gabriel' thing was interesting, clearly whatever was inside of Stiles had a name of its own.

"Oh please, Zachy," Stiles, A.K.A. Gabriel dodged a miss timed stab, dancing away with a smug grin, "Take me home, make me a little cup of tea and we can sit around the pyre and tell stories while you and the garrison burn me for treason." He made a face like he was rethinking his own words, "Actually, you know I think I'll stay here and keep my meat suit intact." They circled each other for a few moments, the sounds of the battle drawing to a close behind them as someone called for retreat. Peter and Stiles both smiled, knowing it was the hunters that called for the moment and not their own.

"You know, this," Gabriel gestured between himself and Zachariah, "This has been really fun. But, you know, you've really kind of messed shit up for me Zachy." He tapped the Angel blade between his palm, body planted at an angle so that he could see Zachariah out of his peripheral vision, "I mean, you've got some balls coming to confront me." A huge grin broke his face, "Well, not literally of course, but I'm sure you get the meaning."

"What is it that the humans say? You're an obnoxious little shit, Gabriel." Zachariah announced, dripping sarcasm and frustration, "A real pain in our asses."

Peter watched as Stiles/Gabriel moved further away from this Zach character, spreading his arms out like an offering as understanding fell over the other man's face. He watched as Zach took a few steps toward Gabriel, obviously intent on stopping him from doing whatever he planned on.

"Looks like I'm doing my job then."

And just like that they were gone. Peter came sauntering up to the regrouped pack about forty minutes later, a smug look on his face and a spring in his step. "Happy after battle, I trust no one is seriously injured and if you are I hope you aren't crying about it. Not like you won't heal."

"Asshole." Erica muttered from in-between the boys, intent on ignoring his presence.

He scoffed, moving near Derek and picking up his laptop. The small machine was thankfully unharmed thanks to the little shield that Gabriel had put up; he immediately packed it away so it would be ready to move. "I saw you carrying that poor man's remains around, so primal of you. You're a stunning example of a virile male."

"Where is Stiles, I thought he was with you?" Derek dismissed the comment choosing instead to continue packing the few belongings they had left.

"Gone, took off after battling someone with pointy metal sticks." Everyone's eyes automatically became glued to Peter, "Before you ask me a string of questions, I don't know where he went or when he'll be back."

"So he's missing? Dude we just had a pretty intense battle what if he's hurt!? We have to find him!" Scott stood, starting to make his way toward what used to be the doorway before Boyd captured his wrist. The larger Beta shook his head, gesturing for him to sit back down before going back to pulling a wrap extra tight with his teeth.

"Right, he can just disappear whenever he wants, could be anywhere." Scott shifted from the group of beta's, tugging one of his bandages a little tighter and sighing, "I just wish we knew what was wrong with him."

Peter started laughing until he was borderline giggling, grabbing his laptop case and throwing a wave to the group as he headed off in search of a new safe house, "I think we should check him for bird flu."

* * *

If it was one thing Stiles was starting to hate it was Supernatural shit. Not just the Werewolves and Angels, the whole nine yards. He was over it, and now he was adding unnecessarily bright rooms to the list, because this was just overkill on the wattage. And the gold and white, I mean seriously how stereotypical Angel could you get here? He groaned, slinging one leg over the arm of what he imagined was supposed to be a comfortable chair, "I hate you."

_**Hey I didn't ask for this to happen.**_

"Hate."

_**You're adorable when you're angry, I would pinch your cheeks if I could.**_

Stiles hunched a little further into the uncomfortable torture trap, using one fingernail to scrape at some of the tacky gold paint that covered all the furniture and trim of the room. "So I don't get it, you said demons and now I'm being held captive by Angels. I mean, how do you mess something like that up? Oh god…" he covered his face with his hands and fake cried into them, one foot kicking the underside of the table, "Oh god, you're the MoonMoon of Angels aren't you. Oh I am so fucked."

**_What the hell does that even mean?_**

He rumbled with laughter, "Damn it GabeGabe, the enemy was the other team!" He could feel Gabriel sulking and it only made him laugh harder. When he had finally calmed down enough to get a few good breaths in he sat up and started taking in the room, laughing as he spoke. "Seriously though, what's with all the gold. This is actually painful to look at, it looks like a bible painting threw up in here."

_**Look, I didn't make the décor decisions. I would have made the room into some sort of black hole or something. Oh! Endless office cubicles. Yep, that's the one.**_

"Sadist."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, taking comfort in each other as they waited for whatever was coming. Gabe had assured Stiles when they first had been left alone that he could easily get them out of the room, it was a simple matter of waiting this out. They needed to know what Zach wanted them for, and at this point it's not like Stiles could just pop back into Beacon Hills and expect not to be found again. This was Gabriel's fault and he had every intention of getting Stiles out of this mess. So maybe it was unusual for an Angel to care like this, but hey, if he had a soft spot for this mildly funny ball of ADHD then that was his own business.

"So…" Stiles voiced after a decent chunk of silence, picking a grape off its stem from the bowl in front of him, "When we zap out of here we should stop by and see Leo get his Oscar. I think it's the right thing to do."

_**Shut it.**_

"Can we just get out of here, waiting around is like asking for something to happen that we'll regret later. Haven't you seen the movies? There are rules to these sorts of things."

_**Like in horror movies.**_

"Right? No one ever listens to those types of rules, then next thing you know…"

_**You're the girl falling over the tree branch.**_

Stiles nodded, laughing suddenly, "Hey Gabe, have you ever thought about how weird it is that I nod to answer you when you're inside my head? It's like nodding to myself, it's weird."

_**Focus skittles, your ADHD is showing.**_

"Gentlemen, how are we today, nice and rebellious?" Stiles spun around, body in defensive position as he faced Zachariah who nonchalantly picked up a discarded grape Stiles had flicked across the room.

"Not really any of your business, I mean I know some of your priests have a thing for little boys but I assumed Angels were above the general masses."

"Tell me, were you obnoxious and presumptuous before Gabriel found you or have you always been this way?" Zachariah flashed a smile, adjusting his suit as he started to saunter around the small room.

"So lets cut to the chase, what is it you want from us Feathers?" Stiles moved in time with Zachariah's stride, taking Gabes advice to never turn his back to his fellow brethren.

"We aren't asking much, just Gabriel and the Key to come with us. You can get back to your mundane human existence and we'll go on with ours."

Stiles raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving Zach's, "Gabriel isn't going anywhere, except with me. And look, buddy, I don't know what key you think you're getting but we don't have it."

**_Do we have it?_**

**_We might have it..._**

**_Gabriel..._**

**_Lets get out of this and I'll explain._**

"It's really quite simple, you give us Gabriel and the key or we kill you and force him out. We're beyond these silly games you think you and he can play and my patience is more than thin." Zachariah popped a grape into his mouth as Stiles yelled in alarm, two Angels appearing at his side and holding each one of his arms tightly in their hands. "You know," Zachariah wagged a finger in the air, a thoughtful look on his face, "I can see why you humans like these things. Delicious."

"Dude, screw you and your Angel cohorts. You aren't forcing Gabriel to go anywhere he doesn't want to go."

Zachariah turned back toward Stiles, exasperated expression planted on his face, "Your dedication is adorable." His eyes turned toward one of the Angels holding Stiles captive, "Kill him, make sure our brother stays confined. We'll deal with him upstairs."

_**Switch me.**_

_**Gabriel...**_

_**STILES, Switch me now.**_

Stiles yelped as the Angel given the direction to end his life pulled a regular blade from his pocket and flicked it open. Gabriel was screaming orders at him from inside his head but he held out, they weren't getting the upper hand in this and forcing Gabriels hand. He could feel Gabe pulling at the control strings, trying to force him down so he could take control. Archangels, pains in his fucking ass. The lights flickered around them, causing the Angels to hold their actions to exchange looks with each other and giving Stiles his moment.

He twisted away, sliding Gabriel's Angel blade into his hands before shoving it deep into the torso of the Angel that had been about to kill him. He ignored the warmth that spread over his hands and the strangled cry as the weight of the body crashed into him. The resistance he felt as he tugged the blade free almost made him sick, but he didn't have time to think about it as the other Angel rushed him. He clawed his way free of the other body and moved a few feet back, "Want some?"

Everyone in the room stopped to cover their heads as every mirror in the room shattered around them. Stiles could feel a few pieces of glass lodge themselves into his unprotected arm and he hissed in pain. When the last few shards tinkered to the floor he allowed himself to open his eyes and immediately flew back against the wall in surprise. The other Angel was dead and Zachariah stood facing a man who stood slightly shorter than him but had enough presence to overwhelm the entire room. Three others, two men and one woman, stood around the room strategically and Stiles almost went into panic mode when he realized their eyes were black like in his dream.

**_Gabriel, speak to me here...what the hell is going on?_**

**_Listen to me very carefully, you need to switch me control and let me get us out of here. Now, not later. If he realizes i'm awake and you have control he'll block me from being able to leave._**

**_Enough said. Tag out for me, don't drop me completely though._**

**_I won't._**

The switch was done faster than normal, Stiles never even felt the drop and before he could even register he wasn't in control they were standing in the middle of a heavily forested area with Gabriel borderline screaming obscenities into the night.

"Oh of all the stupid ass moves, how the hell did they even find us?!" Gabriel swung his arms around into the night, pacing back and forth with furious intent. "I'm a Goddamn ARCHANGEL for the love of...He's just P.R.!"

_**Okay, what the hell just happened? Who was that guy?**_

"Which one, the stuffy Angel with God's righteous cock up his ass or the Scottish prick with a complex?" Gabriel sank to the ground against a tree, hands balled into fists as he punched the ground.

_**Dude, be easy on my hands. I'll take 'explanations for everything' under the 'time to come clean' category.**_

"Of course you will. Look, a full review of everything would take years, so let me shorten the story down for you. I was dead, well...Angel dead anyway for something like two years. I got resurrected somehow, woopie for me. Lucifer got trapped in his cage a few years ago, for some stupid ass reason when I got resurrected so did he." Gabriel cleaned the dirt off one of Stiles fists, trying to catch his cool as he spat out a hurried explanation.

**_So wait, was that Lucifer we just saw? Like mother fucking Lucifer haunt me in my dreams, burn my town to the ground Lucifer?_**

"Short pudgy dude? No, that's Crowley 'King of Hell' who sold his soul for another three inches under the belt." Gabriel sneered, "Basically the same thing but on our ass for totally different reasons."

**_Oh fantastic, every high schoolers dream is being told the KING OF HELL has something against him. Somedays I'm sure i'm cursed, first werewolves infect my best friend and turn my life upside down and now I'm housing an Angel that Heaven and Hell are after. So what...you being alive has something to do with Lucifer?_**

"Not exactly, look as far as I can figure out the two events don't actually have anything to do with each other. Luci isn't actually free of the cage, I mean don't misunderstand me, he's on earth...but something of him is still in the cage and he needs the key to get it free." Gabriel sighed, running a hand through Stiles' hair, "Zachariah wants this key because Luci wasn't the only Angel trapped in the cage. Michael is down there too, and more than anything Zach wants him out and about."

_**I don't get it, why do the Angels want to unlock Lucifer's cage? I mean, wouldn't they want him trapped forever?**_

"Not Zach, see Zach sided with these Angels who wanted the Apocalypse to happen. This is going to sound crazy and probably pretty petty to you, and that's mainly because it is...but the start of the actual Apocalypse isn't what you would generally imagine. It starts by Michael and Lucifer standing off against each other, inevitably causing a battle so large it destroys the human race." A irritated laugh followed, "It's basically code for 'Giant pissing battle'"

_**You're telling me that the Apocalypse is a giant temper tantrum between brothers? Are you kidding me right now?**_

"Oh I wish that was the case. Bope, I've just got a bunch of big bags of dicks for my brothers. All of them trying to please daddy dearest who abandoned us." Gabriel's voice raised and he flicked a middle finger to the heavens, "News flash boys, Dad isn't coming back!"

**_Okay, okay calm down. So what about you, who's side are you on?_**

"Who, me? I'm on my own side, the side of survival. Which, as your luck would have it, is your side. The Human's side, humanities very own guardian Angel. I already died for you assholes once." He explained, a hint of resigned amusement to his tone. "My job is to hide the Key, Luci can't have it, the Angels can't have it, Crowley sure as hell doesn't need his stupid mitts on it."

_**So you do have this Key they were talking about. You're sure it's hidden where they can't find it?**_

Gabriel remained silent, knowing the fury he was sure to face with the answer. He wasn't even sure if it was safe to tell Stiles, if something happened and he needed to leave to protect either Stiles or himself then how could it be safe to leave him with that knowledge. But this was Stiles, stupid human Stiles who just refuses to give him up even with being faced with Heavens most terrifying tools.

**_Gabriel?_**

**_It's hidden in your soul._**

He didn't dare speak the words out loud. Those words never needed to be uttered into the air as long as the key remained in his possession. Forcing something into a human soul was dangerous, something he never should have done in the first place. It was also something only an Archangel could accomplish, tampering with Souls was practically a sin in itself. Sure they got traded like candy, but that just determined their destination, not tampered with the contents.

_**What...what exactly does that mean? My soul? Like you...seriously Gabriel?**_

_**There was no place safer, you can't even notice. I promise I wouldn't have put it there if I couldn't take it out without harming you. What do you want, a freaking ice cream cone for your trouble? Chocolate? This is the Apocalypse we're talking about, Stiles. I did what had to be done.**_

_**Jesus christ, all right so what now?**_

"We hide, stay off the radar and stay away from anyone who being around might get killed. How do you feel about Europe?"

**_We're going back to Beacon Hills._**

"Clearly you aren't listening to the part about death of your friends and family."

**_We're going back, I'm coming clean to my pack and they are going to help us. You want safe, a wolf pack with a group of hunter allies is safe, Gabriel. We played this your way and the only thing it's gotten is trouble. It's my turn._**

"Stiles, they know where your pack is. They expect you to go back, you really think Zach, Crowley and their individual cohorts aren't going to be scouring Beacon Hills for signs of us?"

**_Oh I know they are, and that's why everything you taught me we're going to teach them. If you're on the side of humanity then prove it, let humanity help. My pack may be new but we're family, we have more resources than you and I will have if we go alone, and from what you've told me we need all the help we can get._**

"Stiles, if they get killed I can't fix this..."

Then let them decide on their own.

* * *

Derek was in panic mode, the underground bunker was coming alive as his pack woke up around him. The teenagers had been sleeping when they had been moved, Derek and Peter had been awake and planning their next stage of attack safely inside Peters apartment. The growl sounded low and full of warning from his throat, falling dead when his eyes rounded on Stiles who was waiting in the corner of the room.

"Stiles?"

It was Scott's voice who sounded out first, still slightly groggy from being asleep as he rubbed at one eye. The bandage on his arm had started to fall loose, exposing the already fully healed flesh underneath. The rest of the pack started to catch on to the fact they weren't dreaming, immediately becoming alarmed at their surroundings.

"Stiles, where the hell are we?" Derek helped pull Lydia off the ground, she brushed herself off and shot a dirty look in Stiles direction. Anyone's best guess was to if it was for pulling her from her bed or for allowing her to get dirty, she was pretty particular about these things.

"We may or may not have relocated a small military bunker about forty feet directly under Derek's old house and fully stocked it with a variety ofemergency supplies, wifi, ventilation and a small kitchen." He shrugged, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Welcome to the new safe house. We need to have a little talk about Religion, you should probably sit down."

Notes:

Sorry this chapter took awhile to write up, I've had about half of it written for a few weeks now and life has been hectic enough I haven't had time to get anything else done.

If you ever want updates you can find me at CrowleysFavoriteChewtoy on Tumblr, i'm on there pretty much always.

Hope you guys like the chapter, it's unbeta'd still and we have quite a few more chapters to go.

You guys are rockin with the badass comments, kudo's to all of you. 3


	6. A little slide of tongue

Stiles and Gabriel listened to the collective sounds of their pack squabbling around them, their voices echoing off the bunkers metal walls. They made sure to find the safest place they could find and put it as far out of immediate harm as they could. It wasn't easy, and it drained Gabe a lot more than he wanted to admit, but it was necessary if they wanted to stay hidden. They even made a tunnel system, because as much as Stiles wanted the only way in to be by Angel transport Gabe was right about how screwed they would be if something happened to him and left the pack stranded a hundred feet below ground.

Erica plopped down next to Stiles, eyes roaming over the room with interest, "This is actually pretty genius of you Batman. Very bomb shelter, I like it."

He huffed, waiting for everyone to calm down a bit so he could take over the conversation.

"Explain to me why we're supposed to believe what you're saying is true, I mean Angels, Stilinski? Let's be serious here, you of all people are not involved in some kind of heavenly war." Jackson was probably the calmest out of the group besides Lydia, who had already accepted twenty minutes ago that they were underground and she wasn't going to just walk away from this immediate conversation.

Stiles sighed, feeling the nine pairs of eyes on him, "Yes, Jackson, for the final time Angels are real, I'm harboring one of their feathery asses, and I need your help to keep the apocalypse from happening. Anything else you're unclear on?"

_My ass isn't feathery, thank you._

_And your input isn't needed, thank you._

_Maybe it is, I mean how else do you want to convince them. Come on, it's been ages since I got to scare the truth into someone and that Jackson kid is asking for it._

_Peter believes us._

_Peter and I also exchanged words one night, remember. Plus he followed me the entire battle, it isn't hard to believe Angel after you see someone get their eyes burned out._

_You're why I can't have nice things._

_That would generally be funny to me, but this is just sad._

"Stiles, out of your own head." Peter snapped his fingers in Stiles face, blinking the teen out of his conversation and back to reality where everyone was staring at him like he had lost his mind. Who knows, maybe he had.

"All right, you want proof I'll give you proof. But you all get to deal with the cocky ass Arch Angel." The whole bunker was dead quiet, all nine of his packmates staring him down expectantly. He took a moment to examine them, genuinely surprised when he saw more concern written on his friend's faces then skepticism. "Okay Feathers do your thing and give them their show."

He feels that now familiar simmer of power, like someone lit a match in his very soul and couldn't stifle it fast enough to stop it from consuming him whole. It's controlled now, not full of fury or urgency like when they worked earlier, he even forces himself to admit, it feels good. It's all about the showmanship this round, and if it was anything Gabriel was good at it was flare.

He could hear Allison's soft gasp and the sound of her skin connecting to Scott's arm as she clung to him, eyes full of disbelief. Stiles couldn't say he blamed her, if he had been where she was he would have been freaked out too. The very air around him crackled; full of energy that no one could define in any way but untamed. It was raw, untouched and for lack of better words clean. Stiles wasn't really backseat on this, Gabriel was connecting with him in ways that they hadn't really allowed from each other before. Whatever it was the pack was looking at right now, it wasn't just Gabriel, it was him too.

_What are you doing?_

_Showing them what they need to see. _

_Yeah, but what are you doing to me? It feels…_

_I'll explain it later; we have more important things to focus on right now._

Gabriel was controlling the physical show, but Stiles could see everything. He could see the faintest trace of tears in Lydia's eyes, the way Jackson looked humbled, Scott's concern, and Allison's wonder. He could feel Erica's pride, Isaac's curiosity, and Boyd's understanding. Peter's smug attitude was tangible; he loved to be correct about Stiles condition. But the one thing that overwhelmed him was Derek's fear. It wasn't fear of Gabriel, it was fear for _him_. It sent such a strong signal across his senses that Gabriel cut back the Godly display of power and stood back waiting for the onslaught of questions he knew was on its way.

It took them awhile to say anything, which didn't surprise him based on the circumstances. It's not every day you find out someone you know is literally harboring the power of God. Gabriel broke the silence first, wanting to move the conversation along.

"I guess you all probably have questions that I don't really want to answer." He sighed, taking a seat and eyeing them each individually.

"You can't be real." Isaac spoke up, clearly trying to grasp that Stiles wasn't Stiles.

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow, "The light show wasn't enough for you, pup? You should feel special, I haven't shown my wings to anyone in centuries and if it wasn't for Stiles it would still be that way." They weren't worried about heaven sensing Gabriel's use of his powers; they covered this place in enough symbols to hide them forever. That and the enochian symbols Gabe literally carved into Stiles ribs, one of his conditions for involving the pack. They didn't know it yet but everyone currently in the bunker was going to have their very own rib tattoos by the end of the night, like it or not.

"Look we already explained the situation to you. I have a key that has the potential to do a lot of damage in the wrong hands, Stiles is acting caretaker who is stupid enough to want you all involved." Gabriel rolled his eyes and directed his comments inwardly, "Oh shut up, I didn't mean it like that. Okay, so I did, you know my position on this."

"That's so freaking weird." Erica was staring Stiles down like he had grown an extra head, but every reading they got from her said she was so proud of that extra head that his theoretical grotesque appearance didn't matter. "Like, its you-well, him…Stiles…but you're not him."

_We're like the T.A.R.D.I.S._

_We are not like the T.A.R.D.I.S., I'm an Angel not a spaceship._

_Could have fooled me._

"Look, point is that despite my infinite knowledge and better judgment, Stiles says he wants you guys in on this. So now I have to include you instead of going to Europe and picking up hot chicks because Stiles say's it's 'the right thing to do'". Gabriel gestured air quotes in a dorky manor, clearly mocking Stiles even though he had relented and agreed to this.

"I want to talk to Stiles." Everyone turned and looked at Derek as he spoke, his voice ringing clear with finality. He was done playing games with this; it was time they got the answers they wanted.

"Down boy, Stiles is perfectly capable of hearing you. We need to talk abo-"

"Look, I don't give two shits about your stupid war, your key, or your family problems. What I do care about is that you've singlehandedly taken someone in my pack, almost gotten them killed, almost gotten us killed, lied to us and now expect us to just go along with your bullshitted plan that even you said you don't think is a good idea." Derek had moved closer to Gabriel as he was talking, eyes flashing red and teeth bared, "Now…I'm only going to ask one more time. Give. Us. Stiles."

_Your boyfriend is a pain in the ass. Is he always on his manperiod?_

_Dude is an emotional well of manpain, just switch me._

Stiles was pushed forward, eyes blinking rapidly as he flexed his fingers and took control of his own motor functions. He could tell everyone was itching to pile in on him, part of their pack reassurance that they still had him and they weren't down a member. "Look, if you guys are going to crowd me that's cool. Just remember to let a brother breathe."

He was surprised when all the wolves including Derek ended up beside him, everyone except Peter of course. Peter wasn't really a puppy pile kind of guy. Scott was up in his face, trying to pull back Stiles eyelids to make sure no serious damage had been done and rapid firing questions off. Stiles waived him off, "Dude, seriously can you not touch my eyeballs, I don't know where your claws have been."

Lydia stood near the back with Allison, "I would just like to be the first to say that this entire situation sucks. As if werewolves weren't bad enough, let's just throw heaven and hell into the mix. Has it occurred to anyone else that we're teenagers being faced with the apocalypse?" Everyone was used to her general cynicism by now; they took it in stride along with all the other poor personality traits they all brought to the table.

Stiles shrugged, "Oh come on Lyds, if anyone can handle the end of the world I think it's you."

Her laugh rebounded off the walls around them, "Of course I can, it's you I'm concerned about."

"You have to get him out of you. This isn't safe; we need to get out while we still can. Have him take his stupid ass key and go find a monk somewhere willing to hide away for the rest of eternity." Derek was clearly fed up and it made Stiles feel that familiar guilt creeping in. None of them asked for this and yet here he was, hand delivering a gift wrapped shit storm on their doorsteps.

"I can't man, this is bigger than all of us. The only options I had was leaving and never coming back here or to involve you guys and see this through. I chose pack because if I have to face this I don't think I can do this alone." It was his first time admitting that out loud, and it felt worse than he initially anticipated. He wasn't strong enough for this like Gabriel thought. Gabriel had faith in him but Stiles knew himself, he wasn't a hero and he didn't work well alone. No, he knew his options and he knew the price of failure and this was the only safe path he had.

Derek was shaking his head as Stiles talked, hand firmly clasped on Stiles knee and clearly using it to ground his Alpha instincts. "No, there is another way and we're going to find it. You don't have to do this. Now tell your little Angel to kick rocks and go nest somewhere else, thanks for the bunker, we'll make good use of it."

"Derek, I know this is hard for you, but Gabriel is staying with us until this is over."

The pack was close around him, it felt secure and for the first time since this mess turned real Stiles felt like he could actually see a light at the end of this tunnel. He looked around at the faces of his friends, most of them in deep contemplation except Boyd who was clearly the go getter here.

"So…what do we do now?"

* * *

Scott rubbed his side, face full of concern as he prodded himself. The conversation hadn't really…gone well? Stiles couldn't help that though, and after Lydia and Allison had manned up and pretty much called the wolves babies it was pretty smooth sailing from there. "Hey Scott, buddy, compadre, you aren't going to be able to feel the symbols. You uh, you better stop before you bruise yourself."

The wolf looked sheepish, something Stiles loved to appreciate the irony of, "It's just weird, knowing I have a bunch of carvings on my ribs." Scott quit his prodding and sat down next to Stiles, scratching his chin absentmindedly, "So why didn't you come to us straight off? I mean, Angels are pretty far out but we're a bunch of werewolves, I think we could have handled it."

Stiles knew the question was fair game and more than genuine, but that didn't make finding an answer any easier. "Remember how when you first turned into a wolf you hated it?"

Scott shrugged, "Yeah dude, of course I do."

Stiles nodded, continuing, "Take that feeling, and then add in a voice in your head. It's like…If I could have told you I would have, but I thought this was something that was going to go away." He didn't like admitting that now that he had kind of grown fond of Gabriel being around. Dude was funny, had good advice on the ladies, and Stiles could have these crazy conversations with him that weren't just theoretical.

"I kind of get it, I mean I guess if you hadn't figured out the thing about the wolves it would have taken me forever to tell you." Scott was honest; Stiles always liked that about him. It wasn't a secret that Scott would have hid his condition as long as possible, which is why Scott needed Stiles.

They grew quiet, both of them taking in the sounds of the pack shuffling through the proper wards they needed and Lydia drawing out trap strategies. Leave it to Lydia to find the best way to seriously fuck some peoples day's up, the girl was a mathematical genius. Stiles wasn't surprised when Derek ended up commanding his attention, asking him to talk privately in the nicest way possible that didn't scream 'I need to talk some sense into you before you kill yourself'.

He did a quick wave at Scott and started following Derek away from the group. Part of the reason the picked this bunker was that it was made to hold in sounds, and since having private conversations with werewolves around wasn't generally possible Stiles considered it a luxury feature. He slightly reconsidered that line of thinking when they had crossed half the bunker, down probably the darkest hallway Derek could find and was then slammed against a wall in probably the least sexy way imaginable.

"I don't like this." Oh yeah, he had the big bad alpha face on and everything, this conversation was clearly going to go well.

"Clearly, I can see that. Maybe you could let me stand on my own feet and we could have this conversation like civil creatures of the night?"

_Angels aren't creatures of the night, if anything we're the yang to his overwhelming ying. _

"Stiles I'm serious, you have to stop acting like this isn't a huge deal. You're playing around with the power of Gods and someone, namely you, is going to get caught in the crossfire." Derek let him go so he could pace across the hall, eyes full of fire as he tried to taper down all of his pack leader instincts.

It's not like Stiles didn't understand, after all he was the one with nightmares of "the dark lord and master" burning his town to the ground and leaving everything he's ever known in covered in fire. He brought his hand up to massage his jaw lightly, eyes full of sympathy for Derek's plight. This isn't what he expected when he imagined Derek being involved; he imagined more gusto and drive to finish this but not to abandon it all together.

"Derek, you have to understand that this isn't going to just go away for me." He began gently, hoping to reason with him, "Just because I abandon this doesn't mean it abandons me."

"It's not right!" Derek turned on him, he seemed larger in his anger then he was normally and the illusion caused Stiles to back off slightly. "It isn't right that they pulled you into this! Who picks a seventeen year old kid and drags him into a position where he has the ability to influence an apocalyptic scenario?"

The alpha stalked near Stiles, gaze boring all the way inside him as if he was looking right past the physical and going into that mental lair where Gabriel was housed as he pointed a finger in his direction, "You ask your Angel to answer me that, you ask him what gave him the god damn right."

Stiles felt this simmer inside of his chest; it was low and red hot and entirely foreign to him. It pulled strings of his emotions he had tried his hardest, tried to the point of exhaustion to bury where he would never touch them again. He closed his eyes and focused on it, and when he opened his eyes again his hand stung like needles and Derek was staring at him wide eyed with something that looked strongly like betrayal in his eyes.

His eyes focused in on the red mark on Derek's jaw that looked strangely like a fist prin - Oh. Oh wow, he just sucker punched Derek Hale. Oh…oh god his just punched his Alpha in the face.

"I – I need to go out for some air." Stiles started walking further away from where the pack was nestled, he needed to be as far away from Derek as he could. Because wow, is that what real anger feels like? What the actual fuck did he just do?

"Stiles," Derek's voice was quieter than usual, and if it wasn't for the fact that Stiles was still in shock that he wasn't being torn to shreds he might not have turned around to look at him. He looked kind of lost, maybe in shock himself, "You should stay in the bunker, it isn't safe."

And something about that sentiment, the idea that Stiles always needed saving or needed to be ushered away, made that feeling simmer again. He looked Derek directly in the eyes with an almost inhuman stare, something so personal about it that Derek himself turned away.

"An Angel on my shoulder is better than a wolf at my side any day."

Derek heard a brief flutter of wings and when he looked up Stiles was gone. His fist found the wall, and then his fist found the wall again, and again, and again. By the time he reappeared twenty minutes later the slashes across his knuckles were just starting to fade away.

* * *

Chris Argent always told himself he was a sensible man, a decent man. Someone who upheld the hunter's code with all the grace someone like himself could. He had seen some horrible things, his family had a lot of blood on their hands but he was trying to wash it away. Well, at least wash it away as much as he could so that Allison didn't have to live that life, because Victoria…

Now wasn't the time, he told himself, he wasn't ready to face that truth. Honestly he would never be ready to face the truth of why he laid in bed alone at night and woke up in the morning with no fiery red hair to greet him. He just had to keep moving on, because Allison needed him to do that, and because right now that's all he had. So he woke up every morning and did things normal parents do, he made breakfast, talked to his daughter about school, said hi to the neighbors that hadn't ostracized him after all the storm clouds that followed his family name came about, and tried not to look at the spots his wife should have been occupying.

Like now for instance, on a day where Allison had been out all day and he was doing grocery shopping alone. He picked up a sad looking cereal box and tried to gage if Vicky would have been upset with him for buying something that wasn't heart healthy. He threw it in the cart anyway; one of them would eat it. He pushed the cart further down the aisle, not really paying attention to other people in the store until one of them almost sideswiped him.

"Chris, I'm sorry." Sheriff Stilinski raised a hand apologetically; mind clearly elsewhere "I wasn't watching what I was doing."

"No worries, I wasn't really focused myself." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes but he made the effort anyway.

The sheriff's brow furrowed and he peered around the aisle. "Normally it's Stiles who doesn't pay attention; it's just that I…" He trailed off, shaking his head like he was sure he was crazy before clapping a hand on Chris's shoulder. "Well, never mind. Sorry about running into you." He turned to leave but Chris called him back, the look in the Sheriff's eyes sparking something familiar in his gut.

"Sheriff you look like you just saw a ghost." He said it as a lead in, trying to get the man to voice his insanity.

"Look, this is going to sound crazy…" He laughed, although it sounded uneasy, "Old man Bozark was just here shopping a few moments ago, and that in itself isn't strange except for the fact that I could have sworn his eyes were black." He pinched the bridge of his nose after a moment, shaking his head again.

"Too much time on the job I guess, all those murders left us swarming in paperwork." He let out a small sigh, reaching out to shake Chris's hand, "Good running into you Chris, you say hi to Allison for me."

Chris watched him start to walk away, "Yeah, I'll do that Sheriff." He abandoned his cart, moving toward the front of the store and dialing Allison. He didn't feel panicked until the third time he got her voicemail and found himself pacing near the back of his SUV. Demons, of all the creatures to find their way to Beacon Hills, now the question was did he act on it? He could let this go, he could do nothing, so what a few townspeople get possessed. The odds that this was something potentially catastrophic outside of a standard possession was low, Beacon Hills had nothing Important buried in it.

Chris turned around to pace the other direction and almost ran into the shorter man behind him, he sucked in a heavy breath as he took a step back and steadied himself. If Chris had to peg his descent it would be something European, extremely well dressed, clearly an expensive suit and commanding air to go with it. He was about to apologize for the almost collision when he realized the man was staring him directly in the eyes; suddenly the spatial intrusion seemed less accidental and more intentional.

He eyed him with a very calculating gaze, "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

The man smiled and Chris was immediately on guard, "I was hoping we could have a little chat."

"I'm afraid I don't really have the time, if you'll excuse me." Chris started to walk forward, stopping only when he felt a hand on his arm.

"I was hoping you might want to know why your little dove wasn't answering her mobile. Not a conversation I imagine you want to skip." The man cocked his head slightly as Chris turned around, eyes dangerous.

"The name's Crowley and you're Chris Argent. Excellent," He clapped his hands together, "now that introductions are out of the way let's move this little discussion somewhere more comfortable, shall we?"

By the time Crowley snapped his fingers they were in Chris's living room. Chris's head was immediately spinning and he reached out to grip the back of his couch to steady himself. He moved as quickly as he could manage trying to put distance between them, blinking in an attempt to clear his vision and calm his stomach, "What the hell are you?" He lifted a finger, not quite pointing at Crowley but in more of a defensive gesture.

Crowley eyed one of the arm chairs, giving it a critical look but sitting down anyway, "I'm a demon. Well, not just any demon, since I'm the King of Hell. Really that isn't important though, what is important here is that I want to make a deal." He put on his best business smile, "I think we could be quite beneficial to each other, Mr. Argent."

"What did you do with Allison?" This was the last time he was ever going to question his involvement with supernatural issues in Beacon Hills, so help him.

"Oh she's fine; you can untwist your panties. Come on, have a seat, your furniture is…moderately comfortable." Crowley looked like he was trying to put on an accommodating face, but he clearly wasn't impressed with the Argents décor. He shrugged when Chris remained standing, "Suit yourself."

"Let's get down to business then, you're a petty straight forward guy. You don't like being led around by the tail and I don't like sugar coating my transactions but it's the job and we do it." He looked expectantly at the hunter, clearly enjoying holding the power in the conversation since Chris was still reeling from the transport. "What I want is simple; I want your family out of my hair while I complete a little business deal in your town. So I asked myself, King, how do you keep the town guards where you want them?"

He leaned back a little further, grin stretching across his face, "You buy the guards, of course."

Chris was still supporting his weight on the back of the couch as his stomach twisted, "Why do you think I would want to help you?"

"Oh it's simple," Crowley spread his hands in an open gesture, "I give you what you want. I can't just hand it over though, it has to be a deal, but I promise it's a sweet one."

"I'm not going to let you use Allison." He steadied himself as he wiped a bead of sweat from his face.

"Oh please." Crowley looked almost offended, "Do you really think I'm that boring, hello, King of Hell."

Crowley flicked his hand to the side and smirked, already knowing he was going to get his deal by the look that appeared on Chris' face. The hunter stumbled out from behind the couch, falling to his knees and gripping his wife's hands so tightly his knuckles were white.

"You'll be pleased to know she's pre-wolf. No nasty lunar issues to be found, oh wait let me sweeten this a little further." He waived his hands again and Kate and Gerard stepped into the room. "I took the liberty of doing some minor rewiring in your dear sister; I can assure you she's taken the moral high ground. And gramps over here is cancer free; I have the complete family packages."

"What do I have to do?" It wasn't even a question really, he sounded broken as he stared up into Victoria's not quite alive eyes. It didn't matter what he needed to do in the end because this was Victoria standing in front of him. This meant no more mornings without fire red hair, no more empty corners, no more hole in their family.

"You stay out of my business and you get ten years topside, then you're mine. They all stay; your precious little dove will have her entire family minus her dear daddy instead of the other way around." He wasn't even really watching the interaction with any interest; he had done enough deals like this.

He rested his forehead on her hand, still cold but he could feel the undertone of warmth and the subtle beat of her heart pumping life through her veins. "I'll do it."

"Of course you will, never a doubt in my mind." He stood up, brushing his suit off and glancing down at the chair in minor distain. "I've spared you their consciousness for now; I'm not quite crass enough to force you to endure their memories of you sealing the deal. As soon as that's done I'll be on my way and they'll have their minds back."

Crowley lifted an eyebrow as Chris pulled out a knife, clearly intending to take it to his own arm, "Oh good God, stop would you. You humans are all the same, you think we're all a bunch of barbarians just because we come from the pit. Some of us are romantics, not that you would bother to ask."

"I don't understa-"

"Naturally, your kind never does. Now pucker up I'm a very busy man and I have things to attend too." He crossed the small space between them and pulled Chris to his feet as the knife clattered to the floor. He ignored the muffled protest as he pressed their lips together, he even slipped in a little tongue action until he felt the bond complete itself and he grinned as he pushed the stunned hunter away.

"What the _hell_ kind of deal signature is that?" Chris had fallen back to the floor, still not entirely sure of his legs from the transportation. His argument ended, however, when he heard Victoria say his name and crouch down next to him.

Crowley was facing away from him so he missed the satisfied smile of a deal gone right that he gave to Kate and Gerard, who returned the expression with black eyes. "Well, Mr. Argent this has been a glorious business transaction. Mrs. Argent it is so nice to see you up and about the living, now," He bowed out gracefully, "If you'll excuse us, we have people to see and things to do."

"What do you mean, 'us'?" Chris clutched Victoria's hand a little tighter.

"No, no, not her, she's the insurance, you see. These two on the other hand…" Gerard and Kate approached Crowley, smiling down at the couple with their onyx black eyes, "See when I said I did a little attitude adjustment I wasn't lying, I just didn't mention which moral high ground I chose for her."

"So you stay here with the wife, you two have tons of explaining to do when the daughter gets home anyway."

Chris pounded the floor with his fist as they disappeared, white hot rage pumping through him at how easily he had fallen for the deal. He had removed himself from a game he didn't know he was a pawn in, and somehow he knew Allison was going to have to pick up the pieces.

* * *

"Don't you think we should check on him?" Erica questioned, checking her phone for the fifth time, "It's been an hour."

"I told you, he flew off. He'll be back when he's back." Derek was still seething, although it was more at himself then Stiles at this point. He wanted to go apologize and he couldn't even manage that, and now Stiles was who knew where with some Angel who had gotten them involved in a war.

Derek's mood was keeping everyone fairly silent, minus the occasional side conversation which never lasted long. They had explored the bunker from top to bottom, Lydia rationalizing that they needed to know their surroundings in case something happened. When Stiles still hadn't come back by the time they were through Peter decided to send Scott topside to check and see if he was in the old Hale house ruins. While Scott hadn't returned with Stiles he had returned with the knowledge that Derek's house was apparently restored to almost brand new, complete with an expansion with extra rooms for the pack.

He imagined he was supposed to feel good about that, since it was probably meant to be a peace offering but it just served to make him feel worse about their confrontation in the hallway. He had no idea how bonded Stiles and the Angel were, the only thing he could equate the feeling too was someone aggravating his wolf. He couldn't help his anger though, the situation Stiles was in was Gabriel's fault and now Stiles was in it until they won it or he died trying. Stiles wanted to be calm about it but Derek just couldn't shake that rage off, it just felt wrong.

The sound of wings startled him and directed everyone's attention to the corner of the room, where instead of finding Stiles they found a middle aged man with slicked back blond hair who looked like he had been through hell and back.

"For the love of, if my head doesn't stop ringing I'm going to implode." He groaned, palms pressed to his temples and eyes squeezed shut as he tried to steady himself.

"Who the hell are you?" Peter looked on with a raised eyebrow, clearly on the defensive while still being the only one curious enough to pose the question.

"Who am- Oh God, that's right." He gestured with his hands over his face, "the face thing. I had to come back and tell you guys…" He crumpled to the floor, head clutched tighter in his hands.

Allison slid across the table to help him up, looking frantically out at the others, "Don't just stand there, help me with him!" Boyd moved helped her hoist him into a chair, handing an ice pack over they had found in the freezer.

Allison crouched down near him, one hand on his knee, "Gabriel, what happened to Stiles, why aren't you with him?"

Derek's eyes went wide and he was across the room in a second, Gabriel's shirt collar in his fists as he held the Angel in the air, "Where is he."

"Derek let him breathe!" Erica called from behind him, "look at him he isn't even focusing properly, you have to give him a chance."

The Angel was practically tossed back into his chair, which scooted back a foot from the impact. Derek picked up a chair, tossing it against the nearby wall as he roared, "This is why I was against this! He asked me to trust him, to put my faith in you!" The word faith was practically spit out like it caused a bad taste in his mouth; the sound of his claws shredding through the counter filled the room and all the wolves whined.

Gabriel huffed, "Can't blame this one on me wolfman." He rubbed his forehead, another small moan forming as his vessel healed itself, "we were safe, we were upstairs talking…"

The Angel shook his head slightly as if trying to clear away the remaining fuzziness that surrounded him, "We were heading back, next thing I know I'm incorporeal and I zoom back to my true vessel and high tail it here." He locked his eyes onto Allison, "I feel like a punching bag."

"You look like you were a punching bag." Isaac chimed, trying not to grin at the Angel's state.

Derek was clearly not comforted by this new information, if anything he looked twice as enraged as before and was eyeing Gabriel determining how to rip him to shreds. Gabe met his gaze, battered or not he was an Arch Angel and a tiny Alpha wolf didn't frighten him in the least. "I tried to find him and I can't, I can't sense him because he's got those Enochian symbols on his ribs and I found his phone smashed outside the house."

Gabe wanted to scream, he was always the one telling Stiles they needed to lay low, not involve anyone because it was safer that way, keep off the radar because SATAN himself was out for blood. And here comes Gabe, riding the tail wind of a panic attack out to play ball with the resident wolves and suddenly everyone and their beta's know about Gabriel's existence and Stiles is just…gone.

It wasn't that he didn't want to keep hidden, well, more like that's exactly what it was. He was bored, in all his years of keeping off heavens radar he never imagined he would be hiding out inside a teenage boy, trying to live a mundane life of school and social problems. Gabe needed adventure, travel, the full social package including sex, booze and socially unacceptable jokes. He didn't want Luci to find Stiles, or hurt any of his friends, or burn down his little town, but he was staring down a stretch of laying low that might not really end. For the love of God, he hid the key inside of Stiles, the kid was part of this now and he didn't even know it until it was too late.

He couldn't even blame Derek for his anger, hell Gabriel was angry at himself. He could have just taken over someone, removed their consciousness and live like he had before, just another Trickster who would eventually cover his tracks. Maybe Sam and Dean would have taken notice eventually, although that was the fastest way to get himself caught he could think of.

It hit him like a ton of bricks, Sam and Dean. "Oh I am a _MORON_!" Gabriel jumped up, head finally clear as he crossed the room to where Peter was standing.

"I need your phone." Gabriel held his hand out expectantly, eyes peering at the wolf in front of him.

Peter sighed, exasperated with the situation, "Why can't you borrow someone elses phone?"

"I like you best, pumpkin. Now cough it up, it's for a good cause."

NOTES:

Okay guys, as you might have noticed the update chapter is -gone-! I'm safely moved to Saint Louis and other than not having a job I'm loving it here. I found some time to finish chapter six up and had some quick Beta'ing done by me seestur so hopefully this chapter is looking a little less shabby. It came out to eleven pages in word and I'm feeling pretty damn good about it. Hopefully you guy's didn't freak too bad about the plot twist. :3

Comment's are -always- appreciated, you guys leave some of the best ones and it makes me all gooey and happy inside.  
I'm going to try to work on chapter seven off and on so hopefully you won't see a month break between chapters.  
I am still balls deep in my roleplaying accounts on Tumblr, so if you feel like you guys are waiting too long feel free to shoot me a message on my personal or comment on here and kick me in the ass to get working on it. (Because I am most likely roleplaying and I am so sorry it's like crack)


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